


love me like a desert rose

by aestheticzjm



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: .....yes?, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Model Zayn, Model/Photographer AU, Photographer Niall, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, enemies used in the loosest of terms tbh, is this a 24k ziall fic written in 2019, it's brief, kind of, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 09:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19990063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aestheticzjm/pseuds/aestheticzjm
Summary: The photographer hasn't stopped staring at him. Zayn's used to getting a lot of looks — sometimes they're coming from people with narrowed eyes, disapproving glimpses at his tattoos or furrowed brows when they realize that his last name is Malik. Mostly though, they're passing glances by strangers, taken by his sharp features; high cheekbones, hazel eyes, mile-long eyelashes. They're only ever glances though, intimidated by Zayn's beauty and choosing to look away before they're caught.The photographer, though; he hasn't stopped staring at Zayn.— or the one in which zayn is a model, niall is a photographer and they start off on the wrong foot.





	love me like a desert rose

**Author's Note:**

> title from desert rose by lolo zouaï.
> 
> i know that i mentioned in my last fic that i was done with writing ziall, but the thought of model!zayn was too much (bc honestly if he wasn't smashing it as a singer then he'd most definitely be modelling) and i just had 2 write it!!! this fic is entirely self indulgent (if the word count doesn't already tell you that) and i'm well aware that no one reads and barely anyone writes ziall anymore but oh well. if one person appreciates this fic then that's more than enough for me. :-)

The photographer hasn't stopped staring at him. Zayn's used to getting a lot of looks; sometimes they're coming from people with narrowed eyes, disapproving glimpses at his tattoos or furrowed brows when they realize that his last name is _Malik_. Mostly though, they're passing glances by strangers, taken by his sharp features; high cheekbones, hazel eyes, mile-long eyelashes. They're only ever glances though, intimidated by Zayn's beauty and choosing to look away before they're caught.

The photographer, though; he hasn't stopped _staring_ at Zayn.

There's really no need for the man to be focusing on him anyways, considering that there's currently another girl being shot, a pretty brunette with the narrowest waist that Zayn has ever seen. Still, the blonde keeps sneaking glancing over at him, even though he's only getting his makeup done.

His make-up artist had greeted him with an unbearably fake smile, her manicured fingers tapping against the dressing room table as she told him that he should stop smoking to avoid drying out his skin. Zayn forced a smile in response, simply nodding instead of saying what was really on his mind — he'd already heard the same lecture about his attitude from his publicist multiple times.

Zayn couldn't help but watch as the model approached the photographer, getting up into his space as she looked at the last shot that he had taken. It was completely unprofessional, and Zayn didn't miss the way that the girl's eyes flickered down to the blonde's lips, her hand placed on his bare forearm.

The makeup artist seemed to notice as well, judging by the fact that she was now staring over at both of them, apparently done with Zayn's makeup. Her nose was upturned, and Zayn could practically hear the thoughts going through her head. So. This photographer seemed to be quite popular.

Zayn hadn't done much prior research about him, considering that he was just another one of the many photographers that his publicist had set him up with. He was always doing shoots with new photographers in order to keep his portfolio varied, and Zayn never bothered looking them up beforehand. He rarely ever made the effort of finding out their names either, preferring to just get the shoot done as soon as possible.

The blonde had successfully piqued his curiosity, though. Not enough to try to find out who he was, but enough for Zayn to smirk at him when he caught his gaze, while the thin model whispered something in his ear. Probably something dirty, if the hand that had travelled to his upper forearm was anything to go by, in any case.

"I'm going for a smoke," Zayn murmured to the make-up artist, averting his gaze from the photographer and standing up. He ignored the irritated look that she undoubtedly threw at him, making his way out the back entrance of the studio that they were shooting at.

Zayn leant against the wall of the studio building, careful not to get his outfit dirty. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and being greeted with the sight of several text messages from his publicist, all asking about how the shoot was going. Zayn rolled his eyes, putting his phone on airplane mode before placing it back in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes instead.

Zayn lit a cigarette, bringing it to his lips and inhaling deeply before blowing out the smoke in rings. He watched as the smoke dissipated into the air, letting his eyes fall shut as he leant his head back. A couple more minutes passed by like that, until the door beside Zayn was opening. He looked over, a little surprised to see the blonde photographer, having assumed that it would've been the make-up artist calling him in for his shoot.

"Hey," He greeted, standing beside Zayn and leaning against the wall as well, mirroring the raven haired boy's stance. Zayn looked over, acknowledging him with a curt nod of his head, taking another drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out; away from the blonde, since he was _so_ considerate.

"You're beautiful," The blonde breathed, the words causing Zayn to take his first proper look at the other boy, unsure of how he was supposed to react to the other's forwardness.

"Okay?" He finally settled on, huffing out a soft laugh as he toed in his finished cigarette with the heel of his Doc Marten. After a moment of silence, Zayn chanced another glance over at the blonde, whose eyebrows were slightly arched, expression unreadable as if he was trying to figure Zayn out.

"Do ya' get that a lot?" He questioned, Zayn just then noticing the distinctive Irish brogue that accented the words, rather uncommon for the area they were in. Not that people like Zayn were very common either, but still.

"Yeah, I do," Zayn admitted, leaving out the unspoken _but not from people like you_. "Shouldn't you be finishing up your other shoot?"

The blonde hummed. "She's done. I sent her and Perrie off." _Perrie_ , he assumed, was the name of the makeup artist. "Thought we could do a closed shoot. Are you cool with that?"

 _No._ Zayn fucking despised closed shoots, preferring for as many people as possible to stay in the studio while the shoot was happening. It wasn't because he was insecure or anything like that, but he didn't like the intimacy that came with being left alone with the photographer. It was easy for him to get lost in the hustle and bustle of multiple people on set, make-up artists and models and publicists fretting around; it was far less easier to do so when the only person there was the photographer.

"Yeah, whatever," Zayn said shortly, his tone a bit more indifferent than he was initially aiming for. He was a little surprised to hear a dark chuckle from beside him, his eyes flickering up to rest on the taller man.

"Fucking models, man. Always with the superiority complex," The blonde remarked, a slight edge to his words. Zayn probably should've been offended by the harsh sentiment, but he wasn't, instead lifting his shoulders up in a shrug.

"I don't think I'm better than you in any way, mate. I'm just—" Zayn paused, trying to find a way to make his next words sound less rude, but then he remembered that he wasn't obligated in any way to try to protect the blonde's feelings. "I'm just not that interested in getting to know you."

"Ouch," The blonde said, though he was grinning when Zayn looked over at him. He had a lovely smile, the kind of smile that Zayn could probably fall for if he wasn't careful. From how close they were standing, Zayn could see that the other boy's face was smattered with freckles, so many that he could imagine tracing constellations across the other's alabaster skin.

Zayn had to force himself to look away.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Zayn tightened his jacket around himself, pulling out his phone and opening up his text thread with his publicist. He looked outside, gaze focusing on the little bit of snow that had begun to fall. A soft sigh left his lips as he averted his gaze back to his phone.

 **zayn:** _who was the photographer that I just shot with ?_

 **vilde:** _Jesus, Zayn. You need to start learning your photographer's names. It's incredibly rude not to know._

 **zayn:** _????????_

 **vilde:** _Niall Horan._

Zayn opened up Instagram, typing in _niallhoran_ in the search bar and clicking on the first result, recognizing the messy blonde hair in the small profile picture. He scrolled through the page, pleasantly surprised by the vast array of pictures that he saw. There were some landscape pictures, some magazine shoots, and then just some selfies.

Zayn had never really been interested in photography, but it wouldn't take a professional to recognize Niall's obvious talent. The blonde clearly had an eye for beauty, and every picture was so meticulously framed that Zayn could see why his publicist had decided to set the shoot up. His eyes lingered on a picture of the blonde with some friend, his cerulean eyes a stark contrast against the white backdrop.

 **vilde:** _did you enjoy the shoot?_

Zayn clicked on the notification, sending back a simple thumbs up emoji. He honestly wasn't sure why his publicist bothered to deal with him anymore, considering how much of an asshole he could be. He knew that they'd developed a relationship (of sorts) that he wouldn't trade for the world in the last few years that he had worked for her, but she put up with far too much of his crap. He guessed it was because she knew that no other publicist would be willing to deal with Zayn for as long as she had managed to. And, to be fair to himself, the shoots and public appearances he did were always majorly successful.

He switched back to the Instagram app, his eyebrows raising slightly at the sight of a new post on the blonde's page. It was an image of Zayn, clearly unedited; his were eyes closed, head tilted away from the camera, eyelashes fanning over his cheeks.

 **niallhoran:** had a blast working with @niazkilam for elle magazine today !! be sure to check out the final release of the magazine on december twentieth !!

He clicked on the comments below the image, unable to help himself from snorting softly at what the top comment was.

 **niazkilam:** Loved working with you today! Hope to do it again sometime. :)

Some would say that the devil worked hard, but his publicist certainly worked harder. He pocketed his phone, letting his eyes fall shut as he focused on the loud sounds coming from the engine of the bus. 

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

_**unknown number:** tha wasn’t u who wrote that comment was it ?_

Zayn's eyebrows furrowed down into a frown as he read the message, his head tilted in confusion. He usually ignored messages from unknown numbers, but this one seemed strangely tailored to him.

_**zayn:** who is this? _

_**unknown number:** guess . _

_**zayn:** I'm going to block you. _

_**unknown number:** woah hold up _

_u rlly don’t kno ??_

Zayn's nose crinkled at the awful spelling. It almost reminded him of Liam, and he made a mental note to call up the other boy later.

_**zayn:** clearly I don't._

_**unknown number:** 2 bad I can't tell u since u rnt interested in getting 2 kno me _

Zayn stared down at his phone as if it was a completely foreign object, unsure of what to do with it. He had had people he met in photoshoots try to hit him up before, but he usually ignored those messages. Zayn tried to tell himself that there was nothing different about this as he began to type out another message.

_**zayn:** how did you get my number? _

_**niall:** swiped it off ur publicist _

_she's rlly something isn't she ?_

Zayn smirked at the message.

_**zayn:** she's the one who wrote the comment. _

_**niall:** i figured _

_**niall:** r u free tonite ??_

Zayn snorted, once again caught off guard by the other boy's forwardness. Truthfully he was free, having nothing but Netflix and cheese curls laid out for the night ahead.

_**zayn:** no._

_**niall:** r u lyin ?_

_**zayn:** maybe. _

_**niall:** it's cool , i can take a hint _

_**zayn:** apparently not, since you still decided to message me. _

_**niall:** u've got jokes Zayno _

Well, Zayn had never been given a nickname before. He set his phone down on his bedside table, not knowing what to do with the sudden nerves that were prickling at his skin. This was most certainly not going to become a _thing_ ; or at least, that was what he tried to convince himself of as he scrolled through his Netflix recommendations.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

As it turned out, it didn't become a thing. Niall still sent him texts sometimes, little messages about everything and nothing, ranging from what he was eating to memes that he thought were funny. Zayn didn't reply at all, as if he wasn't smothering smiles into his sleeves at the most inappropriate times; so Niall was a little funny, he'd give him that much.

Zayn tried to school his features into an expression that didn’t convey just how unhappy he was with the situation at hand, the pulsating lights and loud music already giving him a migraine. He forced himself to remember how important this night was for Liam, who'd been looking forward to it for weeks on end.

It was difficult to get his, Louis' and Liam's schedules to all match up, considering how busy the three of them were. However, Liam had met a new friend a couple of weeks ago at some bakery, and _Harry_ was all that the brunette seemed to be able to talk about now, so he was dying to introduce them to him. Harry apparently worked at the bakery and had somehow managed to charm Liam beyond belief, something that Louis was obviously not fond of, evident by the uninterested look on his face.

"Your mate clearly doesn't know how to be on time, does he," Louis remarked coolly, bringing his hand up to examine his nails.

"Piss off, Louis. You're literally always late to everything. The only reason that you're on time today is because I drove us." Judging by the exclaimed _ouch_ and the pained expression that spread across Liam's face, Louis had kicked him under the table. Zayn rolled his eyes, wondering whether anyone that saw them from afar would believe that they were actual adults.

"He's bringing a friend of his too, he said. It'll be nice, don't you guys think? It's like we've always been missing something, maybe the two of them are what we needed to be complete." 

"We don’t need anybody else, Liam." Louis said sharply, narrowing his gaze as he stared Liam down with a look that Zayn was all too familiar with.

"I'm getting a drink." Zayn announced after a tense moment of silence, sidling out from their bar table and leaving the two of them to their own devices. Zayn, Louis and Liam had been friends for more than four years now, having met in college and being inseparable ever since. They had navigated the painful throes of surviving in London together, and Zayn knew that Louis wasn't open to letting new people into their small circle, especially not after everything that the three of them had been through together.

He made his way to the bartop, catching the bartender's gaze and having to lean in a little to be heard over the obnoxiously loud music. "One old fashioned, please," Zayn ordered, not missing the obvious way that the other's eyes raked down his body.

"Coming right up." The heavily tattooed man said, lips quirking up into a smirk that basically confirmed what Zayn had been thinking. It had been a while since he'd hooked up with someone, just because of all of the shoots and PR events that he was constantly forced to attend. Tonight wouldn't be a bad night to go on the pull; only after meeting the infamous Harry, of course.

Zayn collected his drink with a murmured _thank_ _you_ , letting their fingers brush as he took it, just in case the older man would be open to getting off his shift early. Judging by the look that the man gave him, he would be.

The raven haired boy made his way back to the table they were sitting at, slowing at the sight of two new heads. Of course he had to leave at the moment the two of them arrived, because his anxiety just loved to fuck with him. He brought the small glass to his lips, downing the amber liquid in one go before setting the finished glass down on some random table and approaching the boys.

To his surprise, the four of them weren't just sitting in complete silence. In fact, they seemed to be getting on far better than Zayn had expected. Liam caught sight of him first, wide grin gracing his lips as he gestured for Zayn to come over. "Harry, Niall, meet Zayn,"

Zayn's eyebrows furrowed down a little at the familiar name, eyes widening slightly as he caught a good look at the two of them for the first time. "Zayn?" Niall questioned, the familiar Irish accent meeting his ears for the first time in weeks.

Liam's caterpillar brows knitted down into a frown, looking even more confused than Zayn felt. "Do you… do you guys know each other?"

"Something like that," Zayn muttered as he slid into the booth, extending his hand out in front of the curly haired brunette. "It's nice to meet you, Harry. I've heard so much about you."

Harry beamed at him, revealing a set of dimples that instantly led Zayn to understand why Liam was so charmed by him in the first place. He imagined that Harry was the kind of person that could charm just about anybody, and Zayn was already a little enamored, to be honest.

"You're a lot prettier than Liam said you were." Harry said, slow drawl accompanying the cheeky words.

"Aw, did you say that I was pretty, Leeyum?" Zayn cooed, reaching over to pinch the brunette's cheek, unable to hide the helpless smile that graced his lips. When he looked over across the table, he was maddened to see the unreadable expression on Niall's face, the same one that he'd given him during the shoot.

Zayn stared back defiantly, the blonde's piercing look getting under his skin for some reason. Zayn knew that he acted differently around Liam and Louis because of how well they knew each other, and he couldn't help but feel like Niall was judging for him it. He probably wasn’t, Zayn was likely overthinking things as he tended to do, but the blonde's steady gaze threw him off-kilter in a way that he wasn't accustomed to.

Another forty five minutes or so went by like that, the five of them gelling together in a way that made it seem as if they'd known each other for their whole lives and not simply for an hour. Zayn knew that Louis would never admit it, but Liam may have been right before, when he said that thing about needing Harry and Niall to be complete. The brunette's words were admittedly a little blurry in his mind because of all of the alcohol that was regularly being brought to their table. Liam had agreed to be the designated driver for the night, so Zayn didn’t have to worry about getting tipsy, drinking more than he usually would at a club like this. 

Zayn pointedly ignored Niall throughout the entire conversation, barely contributing anything as the blonde explained the coincidental way in which they'd met earlier. He couldn't say why he was acting like such an asshole to the other boy, considering that Niall had been nothing but nice to him so far. Zayn could usually come off as a little bit standoffish to new people, but he had never gone out of his way before to outright ignore somebody.

It was evident that that Liam and Louis couldn't tell, because they were so preoccupied with Harry, but judging by the numerous glances that Niall was sending his way, he'd definitely picked up on it. The whole thing was giving him a headache, not used to ever needing to analyze his feelings towards someone like this.

He abruptly stood, realizing that that may not have been the best course of action when there were suddenly four pairs of eyes on him. "Uh," Zayn said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm gonna go dance." He awkwardly gestured towards the crowded dancefloor.

A slight frown creased Louis' eyebrows and Zayn internally cursed, because the older boy knew him far too well, and dancing was something that just wasn't him. He was usually approached to dance otherwise he didn’t go at all, and it was completely unlike him to offer at such a crowded bar. Luckily for him, Louis seemed to be enjoying his time with Niall and Harry too much to care as much as he usually would. The older boy still offered to come but Zayn promptly denied, trying to force a reassuring smile on his face before turning and making his way over to the bartop. 

Much to his disappointment, the bartender from earlier was no longer tending at the bar, replaced by some leggy blonde instead. She batted her eyelashes at him as she gave him his drink, but Zayn wasn't interested, quirking his lips up into some semblance of a smile before turning away. He downed the shot, setting it back down on the bar-table before walking towards the crowded dancefloor. He had enough alcohol in him for this to not be something that he had to overthink too much.

It only took a couple of moments before he was approached, a guy who was even older than the bartender, smirk set on his lips as he stepped in front of Zayn. "Hi there," He said loudly, leaning in to get closer to Zayn's ear. His cologne smelled expensive, warm and musky in a way that Zayn was instantly attracted to. He could totally do this.

"Hi," Zayn replied, mirroring the other man's smirk and using the excuse of the number of people around them to inch closer to the taller man's body. "I'm Zayn,"

"Ben." The raven haired man replied, letting his fingers rest atop Zayn's body, his waist feeling smaller than usual when being gripped by the older man's ridiculously large hands. "You look like a model," He remarked, to which Zayn chuckled coolly.

"I am one." Although it wasn't something that he usually mentioned to his hook-ups, he found it slightly ironic that Ben had decided to comment on it. Ben's eyebrows raised, his grin widening slightly. "Really? Haven't spoken to many models before." Zayn took his lower lip in between his teeth, watching as the older man's eyes tracked the movement.

"Yeah? Ever kissed one before?" He questioned softly, not needing to raise his voice because of how close they'd gotten to each other. That was all it took for Ben's smile to turn dirty, waiting a moment for Zayn to nod before leaning in and connecting their lips together.

Ben was undoubtedly a good kisser, teasing Zayn's lips with his tongue before he opened up for the other man, wrapping his arms around his neck. He whined into the kiss as Ben shoved his leg in between Zayn's own, effectively rubbing against him where he wanted him most.

Zayn had to pull away to moan _oh, fuck_ in the taller man's ear, slotting their hips together more thoroughly so he could properly rub up against him. It was a little more risqué than he would typically go for in a club in full view of other people, but his inhibitions usually dissipated with the more alcohol that he got in him.

Zayn turned in Ben's arms, able to properly grind against him now, pushing his lower half against him and smirking at the feel of the older man against him, clearly hard in his trousers. He tilted his head to allow Ben access to his neck, his mouth doing magical things against his bare skin.

"God, you're so beautiful," Zayn stilled at the husky comment, suddenly reminded of blonde hair and blue eyes and an awed voice. It took only a moment for Ben to notice Zayn's lack of responsiveness, turning the younger boy around in his arms with a firm hand on his waist. "Hey, are you alright?"

Zayn felt so fucking stupid. "I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling this right now," He apologized, leaning up to press one soft kiss against the taller man's cheek. Luckily for him, Ben wasn't an asshole and simply smiled down at Zayn, albeit a little disappointedly. "That's fine, mate. Maybe I'll see you around sometime?"

Although he knew that it was likely they'd never see each other again, Zayn smiled and nodded. He backed away before turning around fully, making his way back to the bar-top again. He ordered another drink, glad that the bartender was no longer batting her eyelashes at him, probably having seen his exploit on the dancefloor.

He decided that it would be best to return to their table and see if Liam was okay with calling it an early night; something told him that he most probably wouldn’t be, though, judging by how excited he'd been that Louis liked Harry. Upon reaching their table, he was barely surprised to find it empty. A soft sigh left his lips as he settled down on his seat, hoping that someone would reappear while he nursed his drink.

His gaze lifted at the sound of someone dropping down onto the seat beside him, his heart doing a little stutter in his chest at the sight of the blonde. He needed to get a fucking grip on himself.

"Hey," Niall greeted, grin tugging at his lips as he met Zayn's gaze. His cheeks were ruddy, hair mussed, and it was pretty obvious to Zayn that the other boy had been drinking. "Hi," He replied softly, smile a little cautious as he took a sip of his own drink. If Niall was unhappy about how Zayn had treated him earlier, he didn't let it show, smile genuine.

"What happened to tha' lad you were dancing with?" Zayn's eyes shot up at the question, met only with Niall's unassuming gaze. He averted his gaze from the blonde, focusing on the amber liquid in his glass instead, shoulders lifting jerkily in a shrug. "Dunno, like, just wasn't into it." Zayn's response probably should have been more along the lines of _you saw that? You were watching me?_ But he kept the unspoken questions to himself.

"Yeah? You seemed to be pretty into it, from what I saw." Zayn's eyes flickered back up to Niall, unsure of what he was supposed to say to that. He didn't like this, the feeling of being left at a loss for words whenever he was around the other boy. It took a moment of looking at Niall to notice the poorly wiped away lipstick marks that were lining his neck; at least one of them had gotten lucky that night. Zayn forced his eyes up away from the blonde's neck, slight frown creasing at his eyebrows. "D'yknow where Liam went?"

It was Niall's turn to shrug now, turning slightly to face the dancefloor. It was hard to really see anybody from where they were sitting, the strobe lights flashing erratically now. "Last I saw, he was dancing with Louis and Harry." Niall paused, eyes set on Zayn. "You really hate this, don't you?" He questioned, teasing smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm just not big on clubs, like. Not really my scene," Zayn's foot began tapping against the floor, suddenly itching for a cigarette. The almost expectant way that Niall looked at wasn't something that he knew how to deal with. He didn't look at Zayn like he just wanted to fuck him, like most people did; Niall looked at him like he was _waiting_ , and Zayn wasn't sure what he was waiting for.

"What is your scene then, Zayn?" The question was what made him snap, expression fading as he stood up again. "I need a smoke," He muttered, turning abruptly as he registered the blonde standing up as well.

"Look, Niall," The raven haired man started, reaching a hand up to rub at his temples, anything to look away from the blonde's apprehensive expression. "I'm sure you're a nice person. I'm glad that our friends get on well and I think you and Harry will be a nice addition to our group. But I _don't_ want to get to know you. I'm not obligated to try to be your friend nor do I want to be. I'm sorry. It's not a personal thing, I'm just happy with the friends that I have now and I don't like getting to know new people. I'm just going to lay it out straight for you because that’s how I want people to talk to me. Okay?"

Niall just stood there, barely looking fazed by Zayn's outburst. There was suddenly a hand at the back of his waist, Zayn turning slightly to see a taller man looking at Niall warily. "Is this man bothering you?" The guy said, voice low as he kept his gaze fixed on the blonde. Zayn had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, shrugging off the other man's hand.

"No, he's not, thank you very much," Zayn said, sarcasm practically dripping off of the murmured words. "Now, I'm going for a smoke. I'd prefer not to be followed." He said pointedly, directing his gaze both to Niall and the random man, who almost looked offended at this point. With that, he turned and made his way out of the bar, Niall's blank expression etched in the back of his mind.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

For whatever reason, Niall didn’t tell Harry about Zayn and his unjustifiable behavior, so Liam and Louis were absolutely buzzing on their group chat that night, texting Zayn that they'd already made plans to hang out again, neither of them even asking about why Zayn had left without informing anyone. To be fair, Liam did text him the morning after, telling Zayn that he'd assumed that Zayn would hitch a ride with him and asking about how he got home. 

Zayn had taken an Uber home, noticed that the blue-haired driver kept stealing glances at him through the rear view mirror, and had sucked him off in his car once he was parked near his apartment flat, even letting the guy fuck his face and come in his mouth. He had politely declined when the other man offered to get him off, forcing a smile and giving him a fake number before leaving.

Zayn threw himself into his work after that, heavily surprising his publicist by asking for _more_ shoots instead of asking to cancel the few that she'd scheduled for him, something that he often did. He used work as an excuse to get out of all of the gatherings that Louis and Liam were attending with Niall and Harry, and he wasn't technically _lying_ about being busy; he was just stretching the truth a little bit.

Regret wasn't an emotion that he felt often; he had learnt young that it wasn't his job to please anybody and there was no point in regretting things that he'd obviously done for a reason. It wasn't like he necessarily regretted what he said to Niall. He was just embarrassed for blowing up on the blonde and letting his own stupid feelings get in the way of how he treated him. Not that he _had_ any feelings, per se. It was like he said, he had enough friends and he didn't need any more. He couldn't be happier that Louis and Liam loved Niall and Harry, but it wasn't as if he was obligated to love them too. He didn't really mind being on his own anyways, but he knew that he was fighting a losing battle when Liam invited him to his and Louis' flat after three straight weeks of declining all of their offers to meet up.

Zayn stared at the door of Liam and Louis' apartment flat, a soft sigh leaving his parted lips. He was holding a bottle of champagne that was far too expensive, and it was acting as some form of an apology for having ghosted the boys for a little too long now. He had promised them a while ago that he'd stop disappearing on them, but to be fair to himself, it was somewhat justified this time.

The door was opened by Liam, but Zayn could barely focus on the brunette's greeting at the sound of a loud, distinctive laugh in the background. "Liam," Zayn hissed, placing a hand on the younger's forearm to pull him a bit closer. "Louis said it'd just be the three of us."

Liam turned, looking back for a moment before meeting Zayn's gaze again, lower lip tucked in between his teeth guiltily. "He might've lied? It's only Niall and Harry though, I swear. We’re still having a quiet night in, just the five of us."

Zayn frowned, but it was a little difficult to remain angry at the younger boy, especially with his droopy eyebrows and comically large eyes. If it had been Louis, Zayn probably wouldn't have relented so easily. That, and Liam had been standing at their doorway for far longer than what would be considered normal.

"Fine, fine." Zayn succumbed, feeling better about his decision at the blinding smile that Liam gave him in response. He followed Liam into his flat, ridding himself of his Doc Marten's at the door and giving Louis a one-armed hug. He handed him the champagne, thanked with a _sick, bro_ and took a deep breath in before turning to where Harry and Niall were sat in the living room, something playing on the T.V.

"Hi Harry, Niall," He addressed the two, forcing his lips up into a smile. Harry grinned at him, dimpled cheeks and all. "Zayn, mate, haven't seen you in a while. Alright?" Despite the fact that they'd only met once and had barely spoken to each other that night, Zayn would be lying if he said that he wasn't slightly endeared by how Harry treated him like a genuine friend already. Zayn bobbed his head in response, averting his gaze to the blonde.

"Zayn," Niall replied, nodding his head as well. It wasn't as if the other boy was being particularly distant or cold; it was just that his smile just didn't meet his eyes like it usually did. "I'm just gonna check on Louis," He said to the two of them, jerking his thumb up towards the direction of the kitchen. He turned before either of them could reply, uncaring at this point if they thought that he was actually off his rockers. He needed a drink.

He entered the kitchen just as Liam was leaving, the younger boy flashing him a smile before making his way back out to where Niall and Harry were sat. Louis was pouring the champagne into glasses, two huge bowls of freshly popped popcorn atop the kitchen table.

"Louis." Zayn said pointedly, unimpressed expression meeting his features as the older boy turned to face him. He looked impishly innocent as usual, looking at Zayn like he had no idea why the other boy was glaring daggers at him.

"You can't just lie to me about this kind of shit, Lou." Zayn said, leaning against the countertop as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You promised us you'd stop disappearing again, Z." Louis bit back, tone dropping dangerously low.

Zayn's thoughts flitted back to the last time that he'd disappeared on Liam and Louis and a wave of guilt instantly hit him, averting his gaze to the ground. "I was really busy with work, alright? I'm fine, honest."

When he looked back up at the other boy, his features had already softened, his lips no longer pursed and his jaw no longer clenched. "Can't say I remember the last time that you've been busy with work. Vilde must be absolutely shitting herself."

A grin graced Zayn's lips as he nodded. "She couldn’t be more pleased. I think she's worried that I'm, like, on coke or sommat though. She sent me a link to a therapy circle the other day and claimed that it was accidental and I was so confused?"

Louis snickered at that, actually having to raise a hand to wipe a tear away from his eye. "I've gotta meet her soon. Haven't seen Vilde in ages now,"

"I don't think she returns the sentiment, bro. If anything, I'm pretty sure it's you that she thinks is supplying me with all of the drugs."

Louis smirked, his eyes crinkling up in the corners. "Couldn't be farther from the truth now, could she?" He questioned teasingly, a sentiment to their shared love of weed.

"We need to smoke up, mate. It's been far too long, like," The two of them didn't often get a chance to just relax and breathe these days, especially not with how Louis' career was taking off, working his first real job as a director for some artsy short film. Zayn couldn’t be happier for him, having almost felt guilty during their first year in London, his modelling career skyrocketing while Louis was still struggling to get on his feet. Now, Louis was bringing in a steady income and more importantly, loved what he was doing, and Zayn was endlessly proud of the brunette and what he'd been able to accomplish.

"I was thinking of getting some good shit today. I wasn't sure about how Niall and Harry felt about it though, so I decided not to." Zayn expression faded at the mention of the other two, almost forgetting for a moment that they were out there and he'd somehow have to make conversation with them as well.

"Hey," Louis said softly, ever so perceptive. He stepped a little bit closer to Zayn, glancing towards the kitchen door as if to ensure that no one was around to listen. "I know it's strange, letting both of them into our lives. I wasn't sure about it at first, but I promise that they're really cool people. If you're not a fan of them, then I won't hesitate to kick them the fuck out of my flat, okay? But just give them a chance, Z?"

The raven-haired man was infinitely grateful that he had someone like Louis in his life. It was like the other man always knew what to say to him, and they had a connection that he didn't think he'd ever have with anybody else. Zayn simply nodded in response, not trusting himself to speak in fear of saying something ridiculously cheesy.

"Thattaboy, Z. Now come on. Knowing Li, he's already getting antsy as fuck out there." Zayn chuckled, watching as Louis turned to pick up the bowl of popcorn and somehow miraculously the tray with the wine glasses as well. He balanced them precariously on his arms instead of asking Zayn to help, kicking the kitchen door open to get out. Zayn snorted fondly at the absolutely unnecessary gesture, stepping forward a bit to open the fridge door, not very fond of popcorn. He rummaged through it until he found an unopened bar of chocolate, grinning at the find and then turning to make his way out of the kitchen.

He was greeted by the sight of Liam, Louis and Harry sprawled across the couch, the room dimly lit save the bright glow coming from the T.V. Liam was holding the remote in his hand, presumably scrolling through Netflix to find something, while Louis and Harry were chatting from opposite ends of the couch. It was then that he realized that the only other seating option was the large beanbag that they still kept around for whatever reason; the very same beanbag that Niall was currently sat upon.

 _For Christ's sake._ Louis and Liam were both too argumentative to ever decide on whether or not to get a new couch, their reason being that Zayn was pretty much the only regular guest that they had and the couch easily fit three people. Zayn told himself to grow a pair, approaching Niall on the oversized bean bag and lifting his shoulders up in a little shrug, lower lip in between his teeth. The other three weren't paying much attention to them, still stuck on deciding what movie they'd like to watch.

"I can sit on the floor, if y'want?" Niall offered, quirking an eyebrow up at Zayn. "No, no," Zayn replied quickly, knowing that being an asshole again would be far worse than any other awkward situation that he could put himself in. "It's cool, really. It's big enough for us both," He murmured, and with that, he settled down on the beanbag, barely any space in between them considering that they were two fully grown men on top of a beanbag most likely intended for children.

Zayn was embarrassingly hyperaware of Niall's presence beside him, down to the cologne he was wearing, fresh and clean in a way that seemed so distinctly him. He began unwrapping the chocolate, a shoddy attempt to distract himself from the situation next to him, taking a small bite of it. He nudged Niall with his shoulder, holding up the bar. "D'you want some?" He questioned, a little amused by how quickly the other boy nodded.

Zayn broke off a piece of chocolate and handed it to Niall, their fingers brushing against each other as he did so. Zayn's heart did a little flip in his chest at the brief contact, internally rolling his eyes at his own absurdity.

"They've just skipped over the Dark Knight. Looks like there's no hope left of us watching a not shit movie, is there?" Niall barked out a laugh at the remark, a louder reaction than Zayn had been expecting.

"Mate, Liam skipped Scarface when you were gone so I realized tha' a while ago." A slight smile found his lips at the other's words, glad that Niall seemed to have a similar movie taste, at the very least.

Zayn brought another piece of chocolate to his mouth, turning slightly to comment on the fact that Harry had just tried to click on _Showgirls_ , but he faltered as he saw Niall's gaze trained on his mouth, the sight instantly causing his stomach to swoop.

Luckily for them, neither had to address whatever it was that'd just happened because the boys had finally settled on _Goodfellas_ , the opening credits sounding loudly and snapping Niall and Zayn out of whatever daze they'd fallen into. Zayn tried to drown out the rush of blood in his ears by focusing on the movie, convincing himself for what seemed like the twelfth time now that this would not become a _thing_.

After the movie was over, Zayn made his way to the kitchen to get another drink, having finished his first glass a while ago. He had a shoot the next evening so there was no scope of drinking nearly as much as he wanted to — it was for that reason that he opened the fridge, poking around it to look for a chilled bottle of water. His gaze lifted at the sound of the kitchen door opening, met with the sight of Niall standing there.

Zayn had gotten cold halfway through the movie, and it was almost instinctive for him to shift closer to Niall, something that he never gave a second thought to since he was usually next to Liam or Louis. He had realized his mistake when the blonde stiffened beside him, but it only took a moment for him to relax, even moving a bit closer himself. Niall was like a furnace, burning up where Zayn was cooling down, and it was almost unsettling for him to think about how easily he could get used to being in the younger's arms.

"Hey," Zayn greeted softly, closing the fridge door after pulling out a bottle of water. Niall greeted him with a nod of his head, smile easily meeting his lips. "Wanted some more popcorn but Louis said I had to make it myself," Niall explained, gingerly closing the kitchen door behind himself, presumably to drown out the sound of Liam, Louis and Harry, who were arguing loudly about what movie they would watch next. It was nearing ten, which was relatively early for them to call it a night, so Louis had decided on choosing something else to watch.

Niall turned his back to Zayn, opening up the cupboard doors and pawing through them for a bag of popcorn. Zayn watched the other boy for a second, taking his lower lip in between his teeth as he set the water bottle down on the kitchen's small island. "Hey, Niall?" Zayn said, absently wrapping an arm around himself. The blonde paused, not turning to meet the other's eyes. "Yeah?"

"Look," Zayn started unsurely, not at all accustomed to apologizing to people and uncertain of how exactly to go about it in a way that wouldn't make him seem like even more of an asshole. "I was just thinking, and—" Zayn paused as Niall turned to face him, a small, self-deprecating smile set on his lips.

"Zayn. You don't need to apologize. Really. I understand why you said what you said and I'm not mad about it. If anything, I'm the one that should be saying sorry for coming on too strong," Niall said plainly, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. Niall was clearly perceptive, to say the least, if he was able to guess what Zayn was about to say with only a few words. At this point, he felt more embarrassed than anything, the feeling heightened by Niall's maturity in dealing with the situation.

"No, like. That's not fair to yourself." Zayn said, raking his brain for what exactly he wanted to say to the other boy. He had never been particularly good with words, at least with regards to speaking to other people, and he had no idea how to even begin attempting to justify his awful behavior. "You weren't coming on too strong. I knew you weren't being serious or anything like that, so it's cool." Zayn was giving him an obvious out, and judging by the way the blonde's smile faded, he'd be alright with taking it.

"I'm sorry for being such a twat to you. I'm clearly not the best with new people, and I dunno if they've mentioned it or not, but it's just been me, Louis and Liam for a couple of years now? I just haven't made a lot of genuine friends in London, to put it that way, and meeting you and Harry was kind of overwhelming, especially with how obvious Louis and Liam made it that they wanted you to stay? I know that it doesn't justify me being an asshole to you in any way, but I guess I at least owe you an explanation. Tonight was really nice, and I wouldn't want to lose out on a friendship with you and Harry because of the way that I am." Zayn stumbled over his words, beginning to ramble and knowing that he probably sounded like a complete idiot. Niall just stood there patiently though, his eyes on Zayn the entire time, even though Zayn had averted his gaze to the ground at some point during the apology. Now that he was looking up at Niall, whose face was completely neutral, he felt infinitely better about getting it out there, at the very least.

"Liam and Louis have talked about it a lot, actually. They said that you'd probably take some time to come around, and it was clear to me that I had overstepped my boundaries. I wasn't offended by what you said at all, honest. I'm glad that you had a good time tonight, but if you were still unsure of whether or not you'd like to be friends, then I totally understand that." Niall's tone was kind, eyes gentle, and if it hadn't been made clear enough already, Zayn knew that he didn't deserve the other's forgiveness one bit.

"I'm not. Unsure about it, that is," Zayn clarified quickly, nodding to accentuate his point. A grin spread across Niall's lips, the sight making his heart clench in his chest. He had to look away, turning to grab a glass from the table and unscrewing the head of the plastic bottle. "Zayn?" Niall said, Zayn looking up again to meet the other boy's gaze.

The blonde looked a bit nervous, the first time that Zayn had seen him being anything but sure of himself since they'd met. He fiddled with the popcorn bag in his hands, his foot tapping against the kitchen floor, undoubtedly a nervous tic. "Tell me if I've misstepped again, but I was wondering if you'd maybe be into doing another shoot?" He turned the statement into a question, timid gaze directed towards Zayn

Zayn's eyebrows knitted down into a slight frown of confusion, head cocked to the side. "A shoot? Did Vilde set something up?" Zayn questioned, although he was pretty sure that she hadn't since this was the first time in a while that he wasn't avoiding her texts completely.

"No, no. I meant a shoot for my portfolio, maybe? The shoot that we did for Elle got a shit ton of attention, and I'm sure that wasn't only because of me," Zayn felt his face go hot at the compliment, hoping that his blush wasn't evident under the bright, fluorescent lights of the kitchen.

"I'd love to," Zayn said genuinely, smile meeting his lips. It was something that was a little out of his comfort zone, barely ever putting himself out there after having met Vilde, who set up his schedule and all of his shoots down to a tee. Still though, he felt that he owed the younger boy something for acting like such a dick, and he'd be lying if he said that the pictures that he took of him for the magazine didn't come out incredible.

"Sick! Should I set up an appointment with your publicist?" Niall asked, unsure expression replaced with a million watt smile.

"No," Zayn replied quickly, already knowing that she'd try to turn it into a far larger production than it had to be, something that he was sure neither of them wanted. "How's Saturday? Around one, maybe? I don't wake up earlier than twelve on the weekends so I'm afraid that's the earliest you're going to get me."

Niall chuckled softly at that, bobbing his head in an excited nod. "Tha's perfect. It's a date, then," And with that, he turned to place the popcorn bag in the microwave. Zayn tried desperately not to fixate on the word _date_ , simply nodding despite the fact that the younger boy was no longer looking at him.

With that, he exited the kitchen, only realizing once he was in the living room that he hadn’t brought his glass of water along.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Zayn's foot nervously tapped against the ground as his gaze drifted around the exterior of the studio building, his arm clasped around his backpack loosely. He was undeniably nervous, in a way that he usually wasn't for shoots. Niall had texted him the address of the quaint studio building a couple of days ago, and it was one that he hadn't ever worked in before. The studio door was opened after a moment, Niall standing in the doorway with a camera in his hands.

He looked as if he was about to greet Zayn before he paused, eyes dropping down to his mouth. "You, uh, you shaved," Niall said dumbly, his eyes lingering on Zayn's jaw for a moment more before looking up to meet his eyes again. Zayn rubbed at his jaw self-consciously, shrugging. 

"My publicist made me shave for a shoot, she says it makes me look younger. I'm sorry, like, I wasn't sure what you wanted." He hadn’t been able to keep up his full beard for a couple of months now because of work, but Niall had only ever seen him with varying levels of stubble. He knew that the change was quite jarring, which was why he often chose not to shave, only relenting every once in a while for specific shoots.

"No, no. You look great. Come on in," Niall said, opening the door to the studio further so that Zayn could enter, before closing it behind him. Zayn stepped forward a little bit, eyes widening at the intricate backdrop that had been set up, dark blue background with a smattering of star clusters throughout, delicate pinks and purples highlighted against bright white.

"Wow," Zayn breathed, registering the blonde's presence beside him. "This is sick. Did you set it all up yourself?" He questioned, taking note of the lack of anybody else in the studio with them. Niall nodded, cheeks tinged red as he looked down at the ground, scuffing it lightly with his foot. "Yeah, I did. I've been dying to use a space background, as nerdy as that sounds, and I thought this would be the perfect opportunity."

Zayn was wearing a tank-top, so he didn't have to roll up his sleeves, simply turning his arm to show Niall the galaxy that lined his bicep, a cluster of constellations and planets and stars. Niall's eyes lit up at the tattoo, reverently lifting a hand before pausing. "May I?" Niall asked, to which Zayn nodded.

The blonde carefully rubbed his thumb over the design, touching Zayn as if he was made of porcelain. The moment felt strangely intimate, considering their status as acquaintances, and Zayn found himself holding his breath as Niall examined the tattoo. 

"It's Ursa Major, right?" Niall asked softly, and Zayn's eyebrows raised, a little surprised that Niall was aware of the constellation. Zayn hummed in response, a soft smile gracing Niall's lips as he noticed the other's curious expression.

"Studied astronomy in college," Niall said, by way of explanation. "Never really did anything with my degree but I've always found space fascinating. It's actually what got me into photography, all the stunning long-exposure shots and that."

Zayn nodded, impressed by how Niall was actively shooting down any stereotype that could be attributed to him. It was something that Zayn thought applied to him too, the way that everyone formed their opinions about him without him ever needing to say a word. It happened to him in high school, it happened to him in college, and it _still_ happened to him. Niall didn't look at him that way; he didn't see him as just another nameless model, he saw him as something _more_. And perhaps that was why Zayn was so scared of letting himself get close to the other boy.

Zayn cleared his throat, disrupting the silence. "Am I getting my makeup done? I didn't notice anyone else on set," Zayn commented, eyes drifting around the relatively small building, though it was still more than enough room for the huge backdrop and Niall's cameras.

"I was just thinking to keep the shoot small so I didn't hire anybody. I've got some make-up stuff from Perrie, so if you're good with doing any of it yourself then you can, otherwise it's honestly fine either way."

"I can't do, like, the whole deal but I'm okay with the basic stuff," Zayn said, absently nodding to himself. Niall nodded as well, looking far more pleased than he should've been at the fact that Zayn had only learnt to do a little bit of makeup in his two years of modelling. "That's perfect. The make-up stuff is over there," Niall lifted a hand to gesture towards a doorway off to the side, presumably leading backstage. "I'll set up the cameras, meanwhile. Cool with you?"

Zayn nodded, already grateful at how chill the atmosphere of the shoot was. Despite it being a closed set, he now knew Niall a bit better than when they'd done their first shoot together, and the blonde had such a calming energy to him, an energy that instantly put Zayn at ease. Add that to the small building and lack of any real formalities, this was probably the least rushed that Zayn had ever felt on set. "Yeah, that sounds great," Zayn said, and with that, he made his way backstage.

The shoot took a couple of hours after that, the vibe chilled out in a way that it basically never was for Zayn. Niall had offered to play some music to _set the mood_ , as he put it, chortling at the absolutely indignant look that Zayn gave him when Justin Bieber began blaring on the speakers. Zayn found himself helplessly smiling at the younger boy's laugh, convinced at this point that he'd never get sick of the sound.

Niall had offered to let Zayn come over to his flat, which he gladly agreed to, since his roommates were quite literally psychopaths and he took up any offer to get away from them. Niall explained that his roommate wasn't home often, drumming his fingertips on his kitchen table as he asked if Zayn wanted anything to eat. He looked absolutely baffled when Zayn told him that he hadn't eaten anything that day, muttering something about how _no wonder you're just skin and bones_ and then proceeded to cook Zayn the best chicken stir-fry that he'd ever had, ending the meal with chocolate-covered strawberries, that Zayn absolutely did _not_ moan at, no matter how many times Niall insisted that he did.

It was now nearing seven p.m., and the two were sprawled across Niall's spacious couch, on their phones while the T.V. played in the background. It was nice, just sitting in comfortable silence with the other boy, neither of them feeling the need to break it unless Niall found a particularly funny meme on twitter or Zayn was snorting at an obnoxious message that Louis had sent him. Although the blonde seemed like a heap of boundless energy, Zayn was endlessly grateful that he was able to tone it down a few notches as well, something that he felt most people were incapable of doing.

Zayn opened up his Instagram, clicking on his last notification, a picture that Niall had tagged him in. It was an image from their shoot just now, a candid shot where Zayn was laughing — probably at a lame joke that Niall was making from behind the camera. He zoomed in on the image, all of his imperfections evident to him; the tiny nick on his chin from where he had cut himself shaving, the blemish on his nose that hadn’t faded away yet, and the little freckle in his left eye that was always edited out of photos.

"Do you not edit your photos before you post them?" Zayn questioned, Niall averting his gaze from the T.V. screen to him, eyebrows knitted down slightly. "Hm?"

"Do you not, like, edit your pictures before you post them?" Zayn repeated. "I do edit them, why?" Niall responded, setting his phone down on the couch beside him, tone curious. "You've posted two pictures of me now and you haven't edited either of them." Zayn said, realizing belatedly how embarrassing it was for him to bring up a picture that Niall had posted of him an entire month ago. 

A soft smile ghosted Niall's lips as he lifted his shoulders up in a slight shrug. "You don't need the editing, Zayn," He replied simply, tone nonchalant as he directed his gaze back to the television. Zayn found himself flushing at the offhanded compliment, looking down at his twined hands on his lap, unsure of how to reply. It was the kind of comment that he'd get often, from photographers and friends alike, but it was _different_ coming from Niall, in a way that he didn’t know how to explain.

It had been a couple of hours since he last had a cigarette and he found the familiar need crawling up his throat, beginning to mindlessly drum his fingers against his leg. Niall took note of the other's fidgeting, smile a little sad as he met Zayn's eyes. "Do you need a smoke?"

Zayn's responding chuckle was humorless. "Am I really that obvious?" He'd given up trying to quit smoking ages ago, uncaring of it's ill-effects on both his health and appearance. Zayn had only ever tried to quit smoking for one person in his life, but that had been a bust, in more ways than one; he snapped himself out of his thoughts, realizing that Niall was still looking at him, as if he'd noticed Zayn drifting off and wanted to know what he was thinking about.

Niall beat him to breaking the silence, a mischievous sort of look playing on his features. "I remember Louis mentioning that you were into… some other forms of smoking as well," Zayn's head tilted at the other's words, uncertain of what exactly he was referring to. Niall just grinned at him though, gesturing at the other boy to sit there as he got up and presumably made his way to his bedroom.

Zayn still didn't have a clue what the other boy was talking about, only realizing when he returned, holding up a plastic baggie and a single rolling paper. "Oh, sick," A grin found Zayn's lips as he took the baggie from the other boy, opening it up to get a better look. He hadn't gotten the chance to smoke in far too long; Louis was still as busy as ever, and it was rare for them to find a couple of hours to devote to just getting high.

"Nick promised me that this was some really good shit," Niall said, handing Zayn the filter paper as well. Zayn wasn't the biggest fan of Nick, the guy that got Louis all of his weed, so he rarely made the effort to reach out to him, preferring to let Louis get it instead. "Sick," Zayn repeated, taking his time to carefully roll the joint, packing the paper with as much weed as it'd take.

He lit up and offered the joint to Niall, the blonde's eyebrows raising slightly, as if to ask whether Zayn was cool with him taking the first hit. Zayn nodded in response, watching as Niall shuffled to get more comfortable, sitting cross-legged and turning fully to face Zayn. The raven haired man mimicked the other's position, watching as he took the first hit. "Nick wasn't lying when he said this was some quality stuff," Niall commented, passing Zayn the joint.

Zayn brought the joint to his lips and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut at the feel of the smoke curling inside his mouth. "Nick may be a pretentious asshole but I've gotta give it to him when it comes to his weed," He said, to which Niall chortled in response, reaching a hand out to take the joint from Zayn. The space between them was negligible at this point, their knees pressed against each other because of the position that they were sitting in.

"I do have to admit that he is kind of an asshole. I actually knew him before I met you guys, though I've never been much of a smoker. It's nice to have at parties, though," Zayn hummed in response, already feeling as if all of the tension in his body was dissipating with every hit from the joint, his entire demeanor loosening.

"Speaking of Nick, how did Louis come to meet him?" Niall questioned, distractedly running his fingers through his hair. Zayn shrugged, trying to think back to the first time that he'd been introduced to the older man. "Lou met him at a party or sommat. Liam thought he was an absolute tosser though, so we didn't spend much time together."

"I'm guessing that he was probably jealous?" Niall said, a little chuckle leaving his lips. Zayn's eyebrows furrowed down into a frown. "How do you mean?"

"They're dating, aren’t they?" The blonde questioned, confusion evident on his features. "Um, no?" Zayn replied slowly, almost wishing that he could capture the confused expression on Niall's face, the blonde looking at him as if he'd gone mad.

"No way!" Niall exclaimed, leaning forward a bit to get in Zayn's space, causing the older boy to chuckle softly. "They've known each other forever and they live together," The blonde added. Zayn could see why the other boy would get confused; it wasn't the first time that the pair had been mistaken for a couple, and it most certainly wouldn't be the last.

"To be fair, I've known them both for the same amount of time. And I live with two roommates who I'm ninety-nine percent sure are crackheads," Zayn responded, tone deadpan. Niall laughed at that, shaking his head. "It’s different with them, though." He insisted, with the amount of certainty that only someone who was high could possess.

"It’s a good thing that Harry didn’t get the same idea, though. It seemed as if him and Lou were really hitting it off, that day at their flat." Zayn commented, thoughts drifting to how the two were curled up on the couch together, limbs so intertwined by the end of the night that he was unable to tell who was who. Niall still looked perplexed, shaking his head once again. "If Louis and Liam aren't dating, then it's Harry and Liam that are hooking up."

"I haven't tried to ask either of them what their deal with Harry was, now that I think of it," Zayn replied, tying to think back to the last time that they'd spoken about Harry and coming up short. Niall seemed to be doing the same, eyebrows furrowed down in contemplation. "Neither have I, actually. Should probably make some sort of an attempt to do that."

Zayn took another drag from the joint, tilting his head away from Niall in order to blow out smoke rings into the air, realizing distantly that this was exactly what he'd been doing when he met Niall for the first time, though his cigarette then was a lot more legal. He was acutely aware of the blonde's gaze on him, watching him through half-lidded eyes. Zayn handed the joint off to the other boy, sucking in a breath at the shivery feeling that arose as a result of the way that Niall was looking at him.

"It suits you," Niall said, words low and melting into each other in a way that told Zayn that the high had begun to properly hit the other boy. Zayn's eyebrows raised, head tilting slightly to the side. Instead of saying anything, he waited for Niall to take another hit, since he looked as if he was on the verge of saying something else. "The shave, I mean. Your publicist was right about you looking younger, but it's not a bad look. Not at all." A soft chuckle left Zayn's lips at the other's words, reaching over to take the joint from Niall's fingers. He knew that people tended to lose their filter while smoking up, but it was the kind of the thing that Niall would probably say sober, so he didn't particularly feel the need to reply, just taking another hit before passing the joint back. 

Their fingers brushed against each other as Niall took the joint, Zayn watching as the other boy inhaled the smoke deep before exhaling. Niall looked good like this, blonde hair messy and pupils dilated, the blue of his eyes barely visible beneath the black. Zayn imagined what Niall would look like if he got his mouth on him, if the seemingly permanent flush on his cheeks would crawl down his neck and the rest of his body as well. He blamed the weed for the entirely inappropriate thought, absently chiding himself.

He took the joint from Niall's fingers, bringing it to his lips to inhale and then teasingly blowing the smoke out into Niall's face, soft smirk playing on his lips. What he was imagining was a playful chuckle in response, but he got something else entirely, the blonde's eyes dropping down to his mouth, gaze heavy. It was evident what Niall was thinking, with the way that he was looking at him, and Zayn could barely handle it, taking the last hit and placing the finished joint in the ash bowl on the small table beside them.

Niall's gaze met his, lower lip in between his teeth. It felt as if it was happening in slow motion, but Niall was definitely leaning forward, gaze flicking from Zayn's eyes to his lips. Zayn was shifting forward too, and it was the moment that their lips were barely an inch apart that he realized what was happening, pulling away from the other boy and placing a gentle hand on his chest. "No," Zayn physically vocalized, his mouth rushing to catch up with the scattered thoughts drifting throughout his brain. It was as if there was a haze of lust surrounding them, clouding Zayn's mind and making everything feel as if it'd been doused in molasses.

Niall almost looked hurt, eyebrows knitted together. The question was evident across his features; _why not?_ "I'll just fuck things up between us, Niall. I don't want to ruin things now that all of us have gotten so close." The words were bullshit, the excuse sounding unbearably fake to Zayn's ears and probably even more so to Niall's.

"You wouldn't," Niall paused, seemingly looking for the right words as he lifted a hand to run his fingers through his already mussed-up hair. "You wouldn’t hafta' fuck things up between us, Zayn." The words were said with meaning, and if Zayn didn't know any better, he could probably fool himself into thinking that Niall perhaps knew more than he was letting on. If it was _anybody else_ , Zayn would've slept with them without a second thought. Actually, that was untrue; he would never find himself in this position with anyone else because Zayn didn't fucking let himself catch feelings for people.

Zayn inhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "I should go," He mumbled, turning on his side to rest his feet on the ground, knowing that he needed to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. All he saw every time he closed his eyes was Niall's disappointed expression, hurt practically shining through the blonde's open features. It wasn't like he was disappointed that Zayn didn't want to kiss him, it was the _way_ that he looked at him, like he just knew that Zayn was hiding a million insecurities beneath his closed-off exterior.

"You could stay." Niall said softly, desperation nipping at the heels of his words. Zayn turned to look over at the blonde, who was nibbling absently on his thumbnail, a nervous tic. "I'll just call an uber or something, Niall." Zayn replied, tone dismissive as he stood, needing a moment to get his bearings so the entire room didn’t feel as if it was spinning.

"Thanks for the weed," He murmured, not bothering to wait for a reply before he grabbed his backpack off of the table and made his way out of Niall's flat. As he waited for the elevator, he couldn't shake the feeling that the two had managed to shatter everything that they'd spent the last few hours so desperately trying to repair.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Miraculously, things didn’t become awkward for them after that. Zayn could only guess that Niall had dealt with similar situations, considering that it was as if the almost-kiss never happened at all. Zayn didn't shut himself off from the boys this time around, Louis' words ringing in his mind everytime that he thought about cancelling plans. So they hung out frequently, sometimes at special events, like at Louis' short film premiere or at Harry's strange slam poetry reading; mostly at clubs though, the high-end pretentious ones that Zayn would've scoffed at a couple of years ago.

Sometimes Niall hooked up with people and sometimes he didn't. Zayn noticed that he had a type, brunettes with shimmery dresses and sunken cheeks, the kind of girls that Zayn would frequently encounter at shoots. It was as if their roles had been switched, with Zayn now spending his time watching Niall, not in the mood anymore for mindless hook-ups. He'd see Niall and whatever girl he found for the night dancing with each other, only a few moments passing before Niall would whisper something undoubtedly filthy in her ear, leading her to a bathroom and returning with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. He'd grin as he dropped into the seat beside Zayn, asking _alright?_ and chatting with Zayn until it was time to call it a night, usually when one of the other boys got too drunk. The only thing that gave him some sort of comfort was the fact that none of the girls were reoccurring figures in Niall's life, different ones every time. Zayn knew that he had absolutely no right to be jealous, especially when he was the one that turned the blonde down in the first place, but the uncomfortable twist of his stomach everytime he saw Niall with someone else was something that he just couldn’t help.

Zayn was currently bundled up under a huge comforter, his head pounding painfully. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong with him, especially since he'd skipped out on the doctor appointment that Vilde set up for him — she was basically his mother at this point, despite only being a few years older than him. He'd deny it to the ends of the earth but he was scared to death of doctors and the mere thought of visiting one had his skin crawling. So he lied to Vilde and told her that the doctor said that it was just a mild flu that would clear over soon; however, it'd been three days since the symptoms started appearing and it didn't seem as if they'd be clearing up anytime soon.

Though his skin felt as if it was burning, he was practically shivering in his sparsely air-conditioned room, in as many layers as physically possible with a bright blue beanie tucked securely on his head. He hadn’t been able to do anything with himself for at least three days now, barely leaving his room for food and spending most of the day dozing. He was trying to fall asleep now, arms wrapped around a pillow while his head barely peeked up over the covers.

Zayn didn't bother lifting his head at the sound of his door opening, wishing that he had the strength to physically strangle whichever roommate it was that decided to enter his room without even knocking. "I'm sick." He whined, burrowing his head further beneath the covers. The words were a clear indication for whoever it was to fuck right off.

"That's why I'm here." Zayn's eyes opened at the familiar Irish lilt, lifting his head a bit to see Niall, who was now closing Zayn's bedroom door behind himself. The blonde turned to face Zayn, barking out a laugh at the sight. "Oh my god, look at you. You look like a burrito." Niall seemed to find the comparison endlessly amusing, beginning to properly laugh now, making Zayn groan out loud. "Fuck off, I'm cold." He replied heatedly, though the words probably came out more fond than cross.

He could only assume that Niall had been sent by Liam and Louis, who'd both told him that they were preoccupied with other things over a phone call. Zayn had insisted numerous times to them that he didn't need looking after, but they probably felt bad for leaving him alone in his flat full of crackheads.

"Wait," Zayn said, eyebrows knitting down slightly as he thought back to the conversation that he'd had with Louis and Liam before falling asleep earlier. "Liam said that you were doing a shoot today," He sat up a little on the bed so that he could properly look at Niall, who was pointedly avoiding Zayn's eyes, shoulders lifting jerkily in a shrug while he stared at the ground.

"Niall," Zayn whined, reaching a hand up to rub at his temples, guilt already beginning to settle behind his eyes. "Please tell me that you didn't cancel your shoot to be here." This was why he preferred being left alone while he was ill, unable to help himself from feeling awful that other people had to take time out of their day just to be with him.

"It wasn’t even that big of a shoot, honest, they'll barely notice that I'm gone. Besides, Louis said that you'd been holing yourself up in this flat for far too long and he felt bad that he couldn't come check on you." Niall protested, setting the small backpack that he had brought along with him on Zayn's dresser table.

"I'm a twenty-five year old man. I don't need looking after." Zayn mumbled, tone grumpy, as he directed his unhappy gaze towards Niall, who was standing at the foot of his bed with his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing these new black-rimmed glasses, and if Zayn was feeling any better, he'd probably be able to better appreciate how good they looked on him.

"You literally look like a child right now." Niall said, tone deadpan. "Whatever," Zayn grumbled back, realizing distantly that his petulant tone wasn't really helping with the child comparisons. So perhaps he could be a little stroppy when he was sick; it wasn't _his_ fault that he felt like absolute shit.

"I got you some soup," Niall turned to unzip his backpack, pulling out a tupperware container and lifting it to show Zayn. "I made some chicken noodle because I wasn’t sure what you liked." Zayn felt his heart do a little flutter in his chest at the needlessly kind gesture, unsure of what he had done to deserve the boy in front of him. _Nothing, absolutely nothing,_ his mind screamed at him. _You don't deserve him and you fucking know it._

"Are you… are you not a fan of chicken noodle soup?" Niall asked after the older boy's momentary silence, to which Zayn shook his head vehemently, despite the sudden movement worsening his headache. "No, no. I just haven't been eating much because I wasn’t sure if my stomach was up for it. The soup sounds perfect though, thank you, like, for taking the time to make it."

Niall grinned at him, Zayn blaming his illness for the way that the other's smile literally took his breath away. "Sick. I'll just heat it up then, yeah?" Zayn nodded in response, forcing a smile and hoping that it didn't come off as a grimace because of how painful his migraine was. "Don't worry, Zaynie baby. We'll get you all better in no time at all." Niall said brightly, grabbing his tupperware box and opening up Zayn's door.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" Zayn questioned as Niall was making his way out, unable to stop himself from smiling at the blonde's answering laugh, the sound itself making him feel far better than he thought any medicine ever could.

Niall returned shortly after with the soup, one bowl for himself and one bowl for Zayn. He settled down on the small chair attached to Zayn's dressing room table while Zayn propped up a pillow behind his head, allowing him to eat. They sat in comfortable silence while they ate, Zayn only breaking it to tell Niall how fantastic the soup was. If, for whatever reason, photography ended up not working out for Niall, Zayn was ninety nine percent sure that he'd make it as a brilliant cook in no time at all.

He still felt guilty that the other boy was even there in the first place, though Niall insisted to him multiple times that the shoot wasn’t a big deal at all. From what Zayn knew of Niall's caliber though, he was most definitely lying. After they finished eating and Niall had put the leftover soup into the fridge, he returned, absently drumming his fingers against the foot of Zayn's bedframe. "Whatcha wanna do now?"

Truth be told, now that he'd gotten some food in him, Zayn was no longer feeling as if he was about to pass out any second. He tended to forget to eat a lot of the time, which was made even worse when he was sick, so it made sense that the soup already had him feeling a few shades better. The ache in his head had also ebbed down to a dull throb at this point. "We could watch a film, maybe?" Zayn suggested off the top of his head. Niall hummed in response, bobbing his head in a nod. "Sounds good, yeah. Do you wanna watch it outside?" Zayn grunted non-committedly in response. "Not really in the mood to move, to be honest."

He glanced over at the laptop on his bedside table, biting down on his lower lip. He didn't have to make this awkward. Liam and Louis had been in his bed multiple times before, and things didn't have to be any different with Niall. At least, that was what he tried to convince himself of as he averted his gaze back to the blonde. "We could just watch it on my laptop." Zayn said, attempting to keep his voice steady and hoping that Niall couldn’t notice the quiver beneath the words.

If Niall noticed or thought that it wasn't a good idea, his features didn't give anything away. Instead, his shoulders lifted in a shrug, making his way over to the free side of Zayn's bed. Zayn scooted over a little bit to give the blonde more space, lifting the comforter so that Niall could get under it. "What if you get sick?" Zayn asked as Niall properly settled in beside him, the blonde huffing out a laugh at the question. "The Irish immune system is impeccable, mate. I'll be fine."

Zayn wasn't quite sure how accurate that statement was but he chose not to reply, reaching over to get his laptop and opening it up, Netflix already open once he unlocked it. Niall was like a heater beside him, Zayn reminded then of the night that they were forced on the beanbag together, when the blonde was practically burning up the entire time. Zayn already knew what he wanted to watch, catching a glimpse of Niall grinning when he realized what movie he'd chosen.

The opening credits of _Scarface_ came on and Zayn settled back into the pillows, acutely aware of Niall's solid presence beside him, down to every intake of breath that the other boy was taking.

It was halfway through the movie when Zayn realized that Niall had fallen asleep beside him, glancing over to see the other boy's eyes closed, head against the pillow. Zayn couldn't be bothered to continue watching the movie without Niall's running commentary, quips about how _Michelle Pfeiffer is so fucking fit_ or seasoned comments like _the cinematography in this movie is absolutely insane, it's like every scene belongs in an art gallery._ Zayn paused the movie, setting his laptop aside on his bedside table, eyes flickering over to the blonde. He gingerly lifted the glasses off of Niall's face, folding them and placing them atop the table as well before carefully moving his pillow down so that he was in a more comfortable position.

Niall looked ethereal like this, pale eyelids trembling as he slept, dreams presumably flitting behind his closed eyes. It was then that Zayn realized what he wanted to do, reaching over the bed to the bottom drawer of his bedside table, where his trusty sketchbook and few drawing pencils resided. Drawing was a hobby that he didn't actively pursue for two reasons; one, he rarely found time to, and two, his inspiration had dwindled down to practically nothing over the last few years. Call it a cliché, but Niall was arguably the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his time in London and he was the perfect subject for sketching. He hoped distantly that Niall wouldn't mind if he watched him while he was sleeping, sitting up so that he was cross-legged, sketchbook balanced precariously on his lap.

Zayn began to draw thin lines on the paper, his fingers moving fluidly in a way that they hadn’t for months now. It was as if the image was practically creating itself, Niall's delicate features coming to life on the paper. Zayn almost wished that he still had the expensive color pencil set that had been gifted to him what seemed like a lifetime ago, wanting to properly capture the varying shades of Niall's hair.

Zayn drew until his eyes grew heavy, having to set the sketchbook on the table after what could've been anywhere from thirty minutes to a few hours, settling back underneath his covers, eyes falling shut almost immediately as his head hit the pillow.

Zayn's eyes blinked open as he adjusted to the sunlight streaming in through his blinds. He reached over to grab his phone from the table, the large white letters reading 3:42 p.m. "Looks like somebody's finally awake, hm?" Zayn turned a bit to see Louis sitting on his bed, one of Zayn's novels open in his lap.

Zayn blinked at the sight, reaching up to rub at his eyes tiredly. "Where's Niall?" He questioned, his voice croaky from both the sleep and his illness. "Nice to see you too, mate." Louis replied sarcastically. "He had to leave, something going on with his flatmate or sommat. How're you feeling?"

Zayn shrugged from beneath the covers, having to clear his throat before being able to speak again. "Well, my throat's fucked. I think my headache's gotten better though, my head's barely hurting now." He admittedly felt a lot better than he had before the nap, although he was convinced at this point that it was mostly due to Niall's sunny presence more than anything else.

"Let me get you some water," Louis said, expression softening as he got up and placed the novel face-down atop the bed. Zayn watched him leave, sitting up a bit so that he could stretch his arms out properly. He glanced over at his bedside table, eyebrows furrowing down at the little doodle that had been left in his sketchbook, beside his drawing of Niall. He picked the book up, eyes focusing on the small additions to the sketch.

There was a little arrow pointing to the sketch of Niall, the arrow leading to a thought bubble that was obviously in Niall's messy script: _I'm convinced that this is the best that I've ever looked_. Below that were two shoddily drawn stick figures, Zayn having to squint a bit to discern what was in the image. One was obviously Zayn, and he appeared to be in an art gallery showing of some sort, a little painting on the wall beside him, clad in a fancy picture frame. Next to him was who he assumed to be Niall, spiky hair and wide smile and all. He was holding up a little sign that read _Zayn's #1 fan!!!_ two love-hearts drawn beside his head.

Zayn's face probably went embarrassingly soft at the image, confirmed by Louis walking in and asking him why _his face looked like_ _that_. Zayn didn't think the smile left his lips for the rest of the day.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Zayn had no idea what he was doing. Well, objectively, he _knew_ what he was doing; he'd just rung the doorbell to Niall's flat, and was standing there with absolutely no clue of what he'd say when the door was opened. He hadn't even thought ahead to message the younger boy, distantly realizing that he could not even be home and then this whole trip would turn out to be a waste. He was just about to turn around and leave when the door was opened by an obviously confused Niall, who probably hadn't been anticipating company. "Zayn?" He questioned, eyes widening slightly as he took in Zayn's obviously distraught appearance. Zayn probably looked like shit, considering that he hadn’t gotten any sleep last night, and he felt like even more of an idiot the longer he stood there.

"Um," He said, looking down at the ground instead of having to continue to look Niall's face. "Are you busy?" Zayn questioned softly, clearly stalling, lifting his gaze again to meet Niall's eyes. Niall's must've noticed the desperation painted across Zayn's features, shaking his head immediately. "No, not at all. Come on in," He opened the door further to allow Zayn inside, closing the door behind him afterwards.

"I'm sorry," Zayn mumbled as he toed off his doc-martens at the door, pointedly avoiding Niall's gaze as he turned to face the other boy. "I didn't really know where else to go." He couldn't bear being at home by himself any longer, and the thought of going to Liam and Louis' flat was even more painful because he knew how they'd look at him, pity evident in their well-meaning eyes. Niall didn’t look at him like that; even now, when it was obvious that Zayn had been crying, red-rimmed eyes and puffy features.

"Hey, it's alright," The blonde replied, leaning forward a bit to touch Zayn's arm, a bloom of warmth sprouting where Niall's fingers met his skin. Niall kept the point of contact there as he led Zayn to the couch, the older boy feeling as if he was basically running on auto-pilot as he sat down. It had been a little while since he'd spent time with all of the boys together, their usual pub crawls on a stand-still since they'd all gotten rather busy as of late. Zayn still hung out with all of them one-on-one though, sometimes catching lunch in between shoots or the like. Even then, this was something that was completely out of the blue, never really having shown up to Niall's house unannounced before.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Niall asked carefully after a moment, and Zayn absolutely _loved_ him for it. It was easy to write Niall off as just another cocky frat boy type, the kind of guy that spent all his time sleeping around and getting shitfaced. Zayn had almost made that mistake the first time that he met him, but it had become increasingly clear to him that Niall was _so much more_ than that. He knew how to respect boundaries better than anyone Zayn had ever come across before, and despite the fact that the two were so different from each other, he _understood_ Zayn, in a way that almost nobody else did.

The thought had him choking up, for whatever reason, and he found himself needing to clear his throat before being able to speak. "Not really." Zayn admitted quietly, chancing up a glance at Niall to find his gaze already on him, expression neutral. "Can we talk about something else, please?"

Niall began to do what he did best after that, talking about absolutely nothing and everything all at once. He talked about his childhood, his family, his weirdest clients, and Zayn stayed mostly quiet throughout, save for a few hums and short comments in response. The conversation somehow went to Niall's favorite college professor, and he tilted his head at Zayn as he paused on his train of thought. "Hey, we've talked about what I majored in during college but we've never talked about you."

Zayn bit down on his lower lip at the other's words, lifting his shoulders up in a shrug. "Not much to say, really. I majored in music tech and minored in English lit." Niall gaped at him, his expression almost comical. "You majored in music tech? That's sick! I actually wanted to major in it but my da' wasn't a big fan of the idea. I didn't even know you were into music."

The conversation was veering into dangerous territory, and it was one that he hadn't had with anybody in a long time. Zayn simply shrugged his shoulders again, averting his gaze down to his lap. "Not a big deal, like."

The urge to sleep was suddenly overwhelming, the lack of rest from last night suddenly hitting him like a freight train. He lifted a hand to cover his mouth as he yawned. "Sorry, didn't get much sleep last night." It was nearing ten a.m. at this point, and Zayn usually wasn't the best sleeper as it was, but it'd been awful last night, barely able to close his eyes for more than thirty minutes. He knew things would've been better if he'd just reached out to Liam or Louis, but considering the lack of messages from both of them, they hadn’t found out yet and he couldn’t bear the thought of telling them.

Zayn's yawn prompted Niall to immediately stand up, eyebrows knitted down into a worried frown again. "Of course. You should sleep. Y'can take my bed." Zayn shook his head at that, knowing that he'd feel far too much like a burden if he did so. "No, no, I couldn’t. I can just take the couch, if that's okay?"

"My roommate's not home so I'd offer you his bed but I'm not sure when he'll be back." Niall said, chancing a glance behind him at the slightly ajar door of his roommate's room. "Are y'sure, though? I really don't mind if you take my bed, Z." The corners of Zayn's lips lifted up into a soft smile, the first genuine one that'd graced his lips in the last twelve hours.

"I'm good, Niall, really." And with that, he stretched onto the rather spacious couch, immediately twisting himself into a fetus position. "Give me a sec," Niall said, turning and making his way to his bedroom, returning with a couple of pillows and too-large comforter. The couch was already comfortable enough as it was, so Zayn was about to protest, but he eventually decided not to, accepting the pillows and placing one beneath his head. Niall draped the comforter over him, and Zayn was endlessly grateful for the younger boy, hoping he could convey as much with the tired smile that he gave him.

"I'm the worst host ever." Niall said, almost as an afterthought, tone apologetic. "I didn't even ask if you wanted anything to eat or drink. I could make tea, or cook something for you, or—" Zayn cut Niall off with a, "Niall, really, I'm fine," Endeared by the blonde's rambling. Niall nodded, worrying his lower lip in between his teeth as he kept his gaze fixed on Zayn.

Zayn watched as Niall stepped in a bit closer to him, holding his breath as the blonde lifted a hand to gingerly brush a stand of hair away from his face. "I know it may not seem like it now, but whatever it is that's hurting you, it'll pass, yeah?" Zayn wanted desperately for the other's words to be true, but the biting ache in his chest felt as if it'd never disappear. He still forced a weak smile though, nodding his head a bit. Zayn let his eyes fall shut after that, his breath evening out slowly as his thoughts faded.

Zayn was awoken by the sound of Niall's front door opening, assuming, in his groggy state, that the blonde's roommate had come home. He realized that that wasn't the case at the sound of a familiar voice, Liam's low murmuring reaching him in the living room. Zayn kept his eyes shut as the footsteps padded into the living room, beside Zayn on the couch.

"Yeah, we went to his flat and realized that he was probably here when we couldn't find him." Liam explained, Zayn realizing that the _we_ implied that Louis was there as well, though the older boy hadn't spoken a word yet. Zayn couldn't say that he was surprised that the pair had turned up, knowing that they'd find out about his whereabouts eventually. He was immensely glad that he was "asleep" for it though, the thought of having to speaking to them practically making him feel physically ill.

"He's been sleeping for an hour or two now. I don't think he'll be up anytime soon, judging by the looks of it. He said that he hadn't really been able to sleep last night." Niall explained, as Liam hummed softly in response.

"Let me make you guys some tea," Niall offered. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks." Liam replied, always the polite one. Louis grunted in response, and Zayn wasn't sure if he was imagining it but he could practically feel Louis' gaze on him, already knowing that the older boy was hurt, most likely wondering why Zayn had gone to Niall instead of him. Guilt began to settle beneath Zayn's skin, thankful as he heard the three heading off to the kitchen. The kitchen wasn't very far from where he was laying on the couch, and it wasn't as if the three were particularly trying to keep their voices down, so Zayn could still hear their conversation clearly.

They weren't really talking about anything of much substance, obviously beating around the bush and not addressing the elephant in the room, who was, in this situation, unfortunately Zayn. Niall was the one that broke the barrier first, although what he asked had Zayn a little confused.

"Can I maybe talk to you guys about something?" Niall questioned, and if Zayn didn't know any better, he'd say that the younger boy sounded a little bit uncertain, hesitance biting at his words. Liam said something softly in response that Zayn couldn’t quite catch, but it sounded like a hum of assent.

"I don’t know, it's just… I like Zayn, alright?" Zayn's breath caught, not at all having expected that to have come out of the younger's mouth. "And I think he might like me back? But it's like, every-time we take a step forward, we take two more in the opposite direction. I don't know if I'm doing something wrong, but I just can't get through to him, regardless of what I do. Does he ever, y'know, talk about me like that?" It was the most doubtful that Zayn had ever heard Niall, his words carefully chosen and constructed though he was rambling.

"Um, Niall?" Liam said, after the longest silence that Zayn had sat through, his tone equally as careful. "Did Zayn tell you about why he was here in the first place?" Niall didn't say anything in response, and Zayn could only imagine that the blonde was shaking his head. Zayn could also imagine the dubious look that Liam was giving Louis, and he genuinely wished that he could be anywhere else but there at that moment, because he knew what Liam was going to say now.

"Well," Liam started, doubt practically dripping off of the murmured word. "Zayn was actually engaged a couple of years ago." Zayn shut his eyes tight, the rush of blood in his ears drowning out the rest of Liam's words.

The story went like this: Zayn was eighteen when he met Gigi for the first time, in his English lit class in college. They fell in love with each other, hard and fast. Zayn would've never seen himself falling for someone like her; she was a free spirit where Zayn was tethered to what he knew. But what they had was a bond that Zayn was convinced he'd never share with anybody else. It only took two years of dating for him to know, with utter certainty, that there was nobody else he'd want to spend the rest of his life with. She'd brought him out of his shell completely, turned him into the person that he'd previously thought he was never capable of being. He felt the most secure that he'd ever felt in the last eighteen years of his life, his decision to major in music tech validated in a way that his family never attempted to do. It wasn't difficult to see himself in a few years, living in a cozy flat with Gigi, pursuing his music career while she worked towards her doctorate degree. It was all that he wanted, so he proposed, in the summer between their second and third year of school. She'd said yes, obviously, because she believed in their unbreakable love just as much as he did. Despite some initial weariness from their families at the pace with which their relationship had progressed, everyone was fully supportive throughout. Their wedding date was set a couple of months after graduation, and Zayn was certain that he'd found his soulmate, found the one person that would complete him.

Zayn was twenty-two when his whole world was flipped upside down. It was only a couple of days after they'd graduated, everything still fresh and new as they began learning about life outside of university. He'd walked into the shared flat that they'd lived in since the first year of college, thankful to be home after a tiring day of scouting for jobs around the city. All that was left of her was her engagement ring and a small note beside it that read _I'm sorry, I just need some time, I still love you xx_. Four years of being desperately in love and that was all he had to show for it. He'd screamed into his phone that night, met with nothing but her voicemail, _if you fucking loved me then why'd you have to fuck it all up?_ He should've known, really. She was never the kind of girl that could commit to one thing, whether that was her friends group, her style, or even something as mundane as her hair color. Zayn had foolishly thought that things would be different for them, that their love would get them through the hardships, but it obviously wasn't enough, and it never would be.

Louis was dating one of Gigi's friends at the time; Zayn had actually been introduced to him through her, and he knew it was something that Louis would _always_ feel tainted their friendship in some way. He'd found out that Gigi had gone back home, and she wasn't planning on returning. All he wanted to do was run away, and so he did. Louis and Liam were planning on moving out to London — they'd been dorming together on campus during college — and Zayn tagged along, because it wasn't as if there was anything left for him in Bradford. Everything in Bradford reminded him of _her_.

It was around one a.m. last night, and he'd been unable to sleep, so he was idly scrolling through his Instagram feed. It was there that he was met with an image posted by one of their mutual friends back in college, an image of her at a bleeding bachelorette party. _Gigi's_ bachelorette party. Zayn found out soon after he moved to London that she'd fucked off to Spain, of all places, but he wasn't anticipating the fact that she'd fall in love again so quickly. Zayn hadn't been able to establish a real connection with anyone since she'd left him, and she was getting fucking _married_.

There was silence now. "Wow," Niall breathed out, shock evident in his voice. "I'm not even sure what to say, honestly." Though Zayn had barely been listening, he was grateful that Liam had made the executive decision to leave out a part of the story. The part where Zayn gave up on all of his aspirations of being a singer someday, because Gigi was the only one that ever believed in him, and if she wasn't there, then who would? Zayn never really had what it took to make it as a singer in London, but he was _attractive_. People stopped and stared at him in the streets sometimes, and at least he could make money off of that, right?

"Has Zayn not told you about any of this?" Liam questioned softly, to which Niall must've responded with another shake of his head. It wasn't as if Zayn was actively trying to keep his past a secret from Niall, nor did he mind that Liam had told him about it — but now he'd been laid completely bare in front of the other boy. It was inevitable to Zayn that Niall would now only see him as a string of failures; of everything that he could've been but never amounted to. And the thought hurt him more than he would ever care to admit.

"The point is, Niall," Louis cut in harshly, most likely fixing him with a heated look that Zayn had been on the receiving end of far too many times before. "Zayn's been through a lot of fucking bullshit in his life. He doesn't need to be put through any more." The implication beneath the words was obvious, and Zayn could imagine Liam chiding Louis for his candidness, casting him a disapproving look, caterpillar brows knitted together unhappily. 

"I wouldn't, I'd never—" Niall fumbled with his words, and Zayn heard Liam murmuring something to Louis, followed by the sound of footsteps making their way through the living room and Niall's front door opening and closing.

"Sorry about him," Liam apologized quietly, Zayn gathering that it'd been Louis that'd just left Niall's flat. "It's just been the three of us for so long. Me and Lou were the ones that had to pick up the broken pieces after everything with Gi happened, and he just doesn't want to see Zayn hurt like that again. Things were a lot more difficult for Zayn than they were for us, y'know? He's gotten turned down from jobs because of his religion, has been picked and torn apart time and time again, and it's a lot to have to watch that happen to somebody you love. I know you mean well, and I'm so glad that Zayn has taken so well to you and Harry, but Lou's just coming from a place of love, yeah?"

"No, no, I completely understand. I'm glad that Zayn's got both of you in his lives, it's obvious to me that you lot really care about each other." Niall replied, words genuine despite the fact that he sounded quite sad.

They bid farewell to each other after that, Liam thanking Niall for the tea and murmuring something to him that Zayn couldn’t catch. It seemed to him as if Louis had just gone for a smoke or something, because Zayn could hear him saying something to Niall as well, though he couldn't tell whether he was apologizing or just saying goodbye. With that, the door was closed and silence overcame the flat once more. Zayn knew he couldn't just get up now, as it'd be entirely too suspicious, so he kept his eyes closed as he listened to Niall's footsteps retreating to his own room.

He waited about half an hour before getting up, quietly padding to Niall's room and knocking on the door, despite the fact that it was already open. Niall was sitting cross-legged atop his bed, earphones in his ears, and he looked up at the sound of Zayn knocking, immediately removing his earphones. "Hi there, sleepy," Niall greeted, easy grin meeting his lips as he got up off his bed.

"Hello," Zayn murmured in reply, a little taken back by the fact that Niall was still looking at him the same way that he always did. There wasn't an ounce of pity present in his eyes, despite everything that he now knew about the older boy, and it was a little overwhelming, to say the least. "I'm actually meant to be heading off now, so I thought I'd let you know. Vilde's been messaging me non-stop because I've got a shoot soon."

"Are y'sure you wanna go? You could cancel, it's obvious that you're still tired… I can make lunch or something." Zayn couldn't deny that the suggestion was tempting, even though he'd lied about having to get to a shoot in the first place. "Nah, probably not a good idea for me to cancel any more shoots, she'd be pissed. Thanks though, like, for letting me stay."

"It was nothing, Z. Let me drop you." Zayn accepted the offer, turning and walking towards the doorway of Niall's home, putting his boots back on and falling into step with the blonde as they waited near the elevator.

"Louis and Liam came to see you." Niall commented, tone deliberately nonchalant as he absently shoved his hands in his pockets. "Oh? I must've been out cold, I didn't even notice," Zayn replied, shifting slightly to look at the other boy and attempting to keep his expression as neutral as possible. "Yeah, Louis said to call him when you got home."

"Will do," Zayn replied shortly, bobbing his head in a nod. Luckily, the ding of the elevator saved them from having to make any more small talk, the doors opening slowly. Zayn got in, forcing a small smile as he lifted his hand in a wave. As the elevator doors closed, Zayn found himself wondering why thoughts of Gigi in Spain had been replaced almost exclusively with thoughts of Niall and his warm eyes instead.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

They were at a house party. It was being thrown by one of Niall's old college friends, and Niall had insisted on their attendance. Niall's friend was apparently very rich, considering the grandeur of his three-story house, a long drive away from the urban area where the five of them resided.

It'd taken Zayn a few days to come to terms with what he'd found out about Gigi. Upon doing some further research, he found out that the guy she was getting married to was a well-acclaimed surgeon who he assumed worked at the same hospital she was interning at. She'd dyed her hair pastel blue and she looked _happy_ , in the truest sense of the word. It wasn't like she hadn't been happy with Zayn, per se. But she looked complete in Spain, surrounded by traditional Spanish architecture and friendly-looking locals in a number of posts spread throughout the doctor's Instagram, dating back several months.

As strange as it sounded, Zayn was almost glad that he'd found out about her engagement. When she'd left him, there was still a promise penned into the note that she'd left with the ring, clear as day in her loopy handwriting; _I just need some time_. There was always a flicker of hope that remained in him, a flicker that told him that maybe she'd come back to him one day. Now that she'd found someone else, someone that she really seemed devoted to, the flicker of hope had dissipated. Zayn no longer had to wonder about what _could_ happen; she was gone now and he could learn to live with that.

Zayn was drawn out of his thoughts by Niall sidling up beside him, touching him briefly on his inner forearm. "Hey, alright?" The blonde questioned softly, a source of calm in the otherwise erratic party. When Zayn nodded his head in response, it genuinely felt as if he was telling the truth.

Zayn had just arrived to the party with Louis and Liam, who'd disappeared together almost instantly after seeing Harry. He didn't mind being by himself though, just scoping out his surroundings, but Niall's presence was almost always an improvement on being alone. "C'mon, let me introduce you to some people," Niall said, soft smile on his lips as he guided Zayn towards the kitchen with a gentle hand on his waist.

Niall stayed close to him the entire night, remaining uncharacteristically sober while he introduced Zayn to several people whose names he couldn’t possibly be expected to remember. Mostly, Niall chatted to his friends while Zayn remained close by, contributing to the conversations every once in a while. Zayn hadn't really pegged Niall to be a jealous person, but he wasn't sure what else to call the glare that the blonde was giving to anyone whose gaze lingered on Zayn for too long. He wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation; although he'd admittedly been hoping to get laid at this party, spending time with Niall was nice and he liked having someone to take the attention away from him. So he stayed with Niall, allowing the blonde to scare away any potential suitors and finding that he didn't mind it all that much.

It took a couple of hours for the party to begin dying down, and by then, Zayn and Niall had retreated to a lone couch, just sitting and talking to each other. "Should probably head home soon," Zayn commented, eyes drifting around the now mostly empty living room.

Niall huffed out a soft laugh, raising a hand to rub at his face tiredly. "God, I don't wanna go home." Zayn's head tilted in response, eyebrows raising as if to ask why not. "Roommate's throwing a huge party with his work friends. He just texted me saying tha' it’s still going and all I wanna do is sleep."

"You could come over to mine," Zayn offered quickly, before he had the chance to think about it too much. "I'm assuming mine won't be home since it's Saturday, so you could definitely take the couch without being bothered."

"Are y'sure?" Niall questioned, Zayn humming softly in response. "Yeah, no worries. Should we even bother attempting to find the boys or should we just get a cab?" 

Niall let out a soft chuckle at that, getting up off the couch and offering his hand to Zayn to pull him up as well. Zayn couldn't help but notice the way that Niall's hand remained in his a moment longer than he'd been expecting, and he distantly thought about how easy it would be to intertwine their fingers together and leave them like that. Zayn forced the thought out of his head as the two made their way throughout the spacious living room, attempting to catch sight of any of the other boys.

They eventually found them, Harry with far too many of his shirt buttons unbuttoned, Liam with a huge purple bruise blooming across his neck and Louis with his lips puffy and hair all mussed up. Zayn didn't even want to _attempt_ to begin questioning their disheveled states, simply giving Niall a look as the pair tried not to laugh.

Zayn felt strangely restless throughout the car ride home, nervous energy prickling beneath his skin. Perhaps it was due to Niall's presence beside him, the two pressed against each other in the backseat of Liam's small car. He didn't know why, but he felt as if something was going to happen that night, something that they'd been building up to for a while now. Zayn inhaled harshly at the thought, lifting his gaze to look outside the window, watching as the buildings zoomed by outside.

They made it back to Zayn's apartment building in one piece, silently making their way up the two flights of stairs to his flat. Niall wasn't attempting to fill the silence with absent chatter like he usually did, apparently preferring to remain quiet tonight. Zayn wondered if the blonde could feel the electricity sparking between them as well, whether it was all in his mind or whether the tension between them genuinely was palpable. Judging by the way that Niall's foot was tapping restlessly against the ground as Zayn unlocked the door, he supposed that Niall could feel it too.

The raven-haired man closed the door behind them, watching as the blonde undid his sneakers and placed them beside the shoe rack. Zayn did the same, gaze following Niall as he padded forward into the living room, looking around the furnished space. Zayn realized that the only other time he'd been there before was when he was far too ill to function, so he'd never really been able to explore.

"Your flat is sick, mate. Reckon I should become a model to try to get out of the shithole that I live in, huh?" Niall teased, turning slightly to give Zayn a playful smile. Zayn wasn't quite sure what prompted him to make the decision; all he knew was that he'd somehow strode across the room, conquering the short distance between them, and now his lips were on Niall's.

The other boy didn't reciprocate at first, most likely in complete shock that Zayn had decided to toe over the imaginary barrier they'd created between themselves. It only took a moment for him to respond though, lips moving effortlessly against Zayn's. It was as if the constant static buzzing in Zayn's mind had come to a complete standstill, his thoughts restricted to Niall and only Niall. He knew it was a cliché, to proclaim that everything finally felt as if it'd clicked right into place, but Zayn had no idea how else to describe what he was feeling, a sense of wholeness that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Niall pulled away from him, eyes wide and breathing labored from the intensity of the kiss that they'd just shared. "Zayn..." Niall warned quietly, voice dropping dangerously low. Zayn could practically hear the thoughts whirling around the younger's mind, knew what he was thinking and couldn't bear the idea of him giving voice to his thoughts.

"Please, Niall," Zayn murmured back, words equally as quiet. His tone was verging on desperate now; he knew what he needed, he knew what _Niall_ needed, and all he wanted was for the other boy to forget for a moment how fucked the whole situation was and just kiss him back. Niall must've found what he was looking for in Zayn's heavy gaze, because he was leaning forward again, bringing their lips together perhaps more forcefully than he intended. Zayn didn't mind, whining into the blonde's mouth as he bit down on his lower lip, breaking the kiss to wrap his fingers around Niall's wrist to pull him along to his bedroom.

Zayn put the dimmest lights on and closed the door behind them before allowing Niall to press him against the wall, pinning him with two firm hands on his waist. It felt as if the next few minutes went by in a blur, the two working as fast as possible to get rid of each other's clothes, tossing them haphazardly around Zayn's room until they were on his bed, with Niall hovering on top of him.

"What d'ya wanna do, Z?" The red flush across Niall's cheeks had creeped down his neck, lips all swollen from the kissing, the blue in his eyes swallowed up completely by black. "Fuck me." Zayn responded. Niall quirked an eyebrow at him, a neon _are you sure?_ But Zayn knew what he craved; it wasn't as if this was something foreign to either of them, and Niall was no longer a stranger to him. So he nodded his head, black hair surrounding his head on the pillow, leaning up to ask for another kiss and getting rewarded accordingly.

Niall began making his way down Zayn's body, pressing kisses down the entire length of Zayn's lithe figure until he was in between his legs. It was overwhelming, to say the least, to have Niall looking up at him, drinking in Zayn's body with his eyes. He lifted a hand to gesture to the bedside drawer, and the blonde pressed a soft kiss to Zayn's thigh before he stood, returning with an opened bottle of lube.

It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to Zayn that Niall was good with his fingers, considering that the blonde was talented at literally everything he did, but Zayn found his moans becoming helplessly louder as Niall fingered him, ensuring that he was constantly pressing against his sweet spot. _Please, Niall_ , he whined breathily, causing the other boy to groan as he stretched up again to connect their lips into another unbelievably heated kiss.

And then Niall was pushing in, their eyes fixed on each other as he bottomed all the way out, Zayn's mind completely blank save a running litany of _NiallNiallNiall_. The blonde murmured into Zayn's ear as he tried to get his bearings, _god, you're so tight, you feel so good like this, Jesus fuck, Zayn._ The blonde's gravelly tone in his ear was more than enough for him to feel like he was ready, giving Niall the go ahead and crying out as soon as he begun moving.

It was somehow not enough yet entirely too much as Niall shifted against him, awed by how the blonde looked at that moment. Sure, Zayn knew what he looked like, but Niall was an absolute _vision_ like this, so lovely that it had Zayn scrabbling for purchase on Niall's back.

Niall lifted a hand to rub his thumb softly against Zayn's lower lip, looking down at him with so much reverence that it had his heart stuttering in his chest. "God, you're stunning," Niall murmured, and the single moment felt so much more intimate than anything that they'd done yet, and Zayn couldn't take it; he closed his eyes as he let his head fall back against the pillow, unable to look at the blonde any longer without feeling as if his heart would just leap straight out of his chest.

"Fuck me, Niall," Zayn repeated lowly. Niall did as told, beginning to thrust into Zayn more steadily, rocking against him with purpose now, fingers bunched up in the fabric of the sheets beside Zayn's head. "Do you like tha'?" Niall questioned, voice rough as he quickened his pace, Zayn unable to do much more than moan in response.

His moans became even more disjointed as Niall got a hand on him, only needing to be stroked a few times before he was coming, fireworks erupting behind his eyes at finally being able to just _let go_. Zayn sobbed Niall's name out as he came, eyes flying open to meet the blonde's awed gaze.

Zayn could feel it, the blonde about to pull out, and he mumbled something in protest, mouth not quite able to catch up with his orgasm-addled brain yet. "No, in me, yeah?" He finally got out, words slurred, every nerve in his body feeling as if it was being lit up from the inside out at the feeling of Niall inside him. 

He could see the moment that realization flitted across Niall's features, gaping at Zayn, half in shock and half in lust. "Fuck, Zayn," Niall swore, causing Zayn to huff out a soft laugh, wrapping his arms around the blonde's neck to pull him down for a kiss. Niall indulged him, leaning down to gently connect their lips together.

Niall seemed to forget himself as he kissed Zayn, shifting inside him suddenly. Zayn felt as if all of the air had been knocked out of his body, groaning out in more pain than pleasure as he broke the kiss, arms tightening around the blonde. "Zayn," Niall started unsurely, obviously afraid of hurting him, but Zayn simply keened in response, a choked _more_ escaping his lips.

Niall swore again, leaning back down to press their lips together as he picked up his steady pace. Zayn was barely kissing Niall back at this point, panting against the younger's mouth, all shivery moans and disjointed curses. It only took a few more thrusts for Niall to come, a breathy whimper escaping his lips at the feeling of Niall deep inside him.

They stayed connected for a few more moments, Zayn letting out a wrecked sob as the blonde pulled out, his body practically trembling at the overstimulation. He vaguely registered Niall moving around the room, exiting at one point and returning with a washcloth that had been soaked in warm water.

Niall settled gingerly down next to him on the bed, placing the washcloth on his stomach. "Y'good?" The blonde questioned, voice soft, and a soft chuckle escaped Zayn's lips at that, opening up his eyes to meet Niall's. "More than." He replied croakily, voice completely fucked from all of the noise he'd made. Zayn watched, from lidded eyes, as Niall continued to wipe him down carefully, fingers gentle.

"The couch isn't all that comfortable, y'know. You could just sleep here tonight," Zayn tried to keep his voice as light as possible, but he still felt the way Niall's hand stilled atop his waist. "It's not that big of a deal." Zayn said quietly, Niall's fingers finally resuming their motions across Zayn's abdomen. It truly wasn’t, considering that Zayn's hookups often stayed the night and it was never a big deal in the morning. In the back of Zayn's mind, he knew that what'd just happened with Niall certainly didn't feel like just another casual hook-up. But he couldn't come to terms with the fact that Niall was the only one he'd ever really wanted to _stay_ before; it was easier to ignore the rapid thudding of his heart in his chest in favor of attempting to examine his feelings for the other boy.

"Okay." Niall responded, the word so soft that Zayn wasn't sure whether he was imagining it or whether Niall had really said it. Zayn sat up once the blonde was finished cleaning him up, standing on wobbly knees. He made his way over to his closet, pulling on an oversized knit sweater and a pair of boxers before turning to Niall, who was already watching him with a faint smile on his lips. 

"Do you want a change of clothes?" Zayn questioned, absently taking note of the fact that Niall had already put his boxers back on. Niall shook his head no, getting up himself to toss the washcloth in the washing basket, now stood right in front of him. Zayn's breath caught as Niall lifted a hand to rub the pad of his thumb over his cheekbone, the intimacy of the delicate gesture making Zayn's head spin. "Let's go to bed, petal, yeah?" The fragile words were barely above a whisper, and Niall fit his fingers around Zayn's frail wrist before shutting the lights off, leading him to bed.

Zayn got in underneath the covers, his chest tight and throat brimming with a million unsaid things. He turned on his side so that Niall was able to get an arm around his waist, pulling him closer to him, so close that he could practically feel Niall's breath on the back of his neck. Niall was holding onto him rather tightly, and Zayn couldn’t help but wonder whether Niall's grip was so firm because he knew that Zayn was close to slipping through his fingers.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

Zayn groggily blinked his eyes open at the sunlight streaming in through the open window, throwing an arm over his face to shield himself from the harsh light. It took a few moments for him to be able to fully open his eyes, allowing himself to get used to the bright room. Memories from last night suddenly flooded into his mind, flashes of Niall's blonde hair, blue eyes, alabaster skin. He turned over on his side, finding the space beside him empty. Zayn inhaled harshly, hurt settling deep beneath his skin. There was no reason for him to be hurt; he'd been the one that'd constantly distanced himself from the other boy, made it clear that he wasn't looking for something more, and Niall didn't owe him a damn thing. 

Zayn forced himself to get out of bed, making his way to the bathroom and completing his morning routine robotically, unable to look at himself in the mirror because of how fucking pathetic he felt. He scrubbed a hand against his face as he made his way back to his room, pulling out a pair of shorts from his closet and tugging them on, before opening up his bedroom door so that he could make himself a cup of coffee.

Upon entering the kitchen, Zayn was met with the sight of Niall sitting at his dining room table, plate of eggs and cup of tea in front of him while he typed out something on his phone. It was a strangely picturesque scene, and the domesticity of it had Zayn's mind whirling. Niall looked up at the sound of Zayn entering, smile meeting his lips, though it wasn't nearly as bright as the smiles that Zayn usually got.

"Good morning. Hope you don't mind tha' I made us breakfast, I was starving," The blonde gestured across from him on the table, where there was another plate of eggs next to a cup of coffee. Zayn stared dumbly at the other boy, mouth moving to catch up with the thoughts running through his mind. "I thought you'd left," He finally said quietly, chastising himself at the uncertainty evident in his tone.

Niall's expression faded, his grip on his cup noticeably tightening. "I didn't." Niall replied, averting his gaze back to his phone and continuing to type out whatever message he'd been working on, fingers moving deftly across the screen. Zayn made his way to the dining table and sat down, unsure of what to make of the entire situation and what to do with the words caught in his throat. He lifted his cup to take a sip of his coffee, gaze rested on the blonde.

He couldn't deal with just sitting there anymore, the silence deafening in a way that it usually wasn't with both of them. "Last night was nice, yeah? I hope it's clear though, like, that it was just a one-time thing," Zayn knew, from the moment that the words left his mouth, that it wasn't a good idea to continue speaking, but he rambled on anyways. "I'm just not looking for something serious right now, like, it's for the best."

Zayn chanced a glance up at Niall, who'd placed his phone down and was now looking straight at him, expression unreadable. He couldn't bear to look at the other boy any longer, averting his gaze back down to his cup of coffee, practically able to _feel_ the disappointment radiating off of him.

"Is that it?" Niall questioned, voice dropping frighteningly low, addressing Zayn with a blank tone that he'd never used on him before. Zayn took his lower lip in between his teeth as his shoulders lifted jerkily in a shrug, unsure of what exactly it was that the blonde was expecting to hear from him. "I don’t know what you want me to say, Niall," He said, tone dismissive, standing up to pour out his unfinished coffee in the sink before placing the cup inside as well.

"I wanted you to stop being so fucking cold for once, Zayn." Niall spat, causing Zayn to turn around, eyes widened in shock. The blonde was standing now, eyebrows furrowed down angrily. He'd never seen Niall like this before, and the change from his usual bubbly demeanor was so jarring that Zayn almost felt as if he was with an entirely different person.

"What, are you just never going to let yourself get close to anybody because you've been fucked over before?" Niall questioned, bitter laugh leaving his lips. "How is that fair to yourself, Zayn?" Niall asked quietly, his expression softening as he stepped forward, only a bit of distance separating the two now. Zayn's gaze dropped to the ground, embarrassingly close to crying, heart stuck in his throat.

"I just don’t want you to feel like you have to deprive yourself of things that make you happy, Z." The other boy murmured, lifting his hand to tip Zayn's chin up gently, forcing him to meet the blonde's calm gaze. "I don't feel that way." Zayn responded feebly, the corners of his lips downturned into a soft pout. "Look, Zayn. All you have to do is look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't want to be with me."

"That's ridiculous, Niall," Zayn scoffed, shaking his head a bit. Niall simply shrugged in response, placing his hands in his pockets as he took a step back from Zayn, expression unaffected. "Do it, then."

Zayn stared at Niall, at the lips that were against his own just last night, at the freckles that were like constellations spread across his alabaster skin, at the cerulean eyes that had featured in far too many of his thoughts as of late; "I'm not interested in you, Niall." The words were barely above a whisper.

Niall's expression hardened, his lips setting into a thin line. He nodded slowly in response before turning, grabbing his phone from the dining table and making his way towards the front door. He didn't pause as he opened it up and closed it harshly, leaving Zayn by himself and taking his heart along with him.

— *✲ﾟ*｡✧ — 

_**zayn:** are you busy tomorrow?_

Zayn stared at the message as it went through, setting his phone down on his desk as he anxiously ran his fingers through his hair. It'd been a week or two now since his falling out with Niall, and Zayn felt like absolute shit, knowing that he simply had to do something about it. Niall had been noticeably absent from all of their recent gatherings, always busy with something or the other, and he was getting tired of being let down every time Harry made an excuse for him.

Zayn couldn't tell whether Niall had told Harry about what'd happened between them or not, considering that Harry acted the same around him as he always did. Zayn finally understood what it was like to be on the receiving end of complete radio silence, something that he did often, though it wasn't always intentional on his end. It was clear that the blonde's silence was deliberate though, and for that he couldn't blame him.

_**niall:** why ? _

Zayn's gaze flickered to his phone at it vibrated, not having expected a reply from Niall so quickly, especially considering the distinct lack of communication from him since their fight.

_**zayn:** I've got a shoot for gq & Vilde hasn't hired a photographer yet _

_**niall:** ok. text me the details _

Zayn took a deep breath in, opening up his thread with Vilde and copying the details that she'd sent him, pasting it to his conversation with Niall.

_**zayn:** I want a closed set tomorrow _

_**vilde:** I've already hired a make-up artist. _

_**zayn:** send her my address and tell her to come over beforehand . I want a closed shoot_

Zayn set his phone down once more, nervous energy thrumming beneath his skin. Perhaps everything would go to shit tomorrow, but at least Zayn knew that he'd made an attempt to fix something that he'd so obviously fucked up; it was something that not many people in his life attempted to do.

This was the story of how Zayn and Niall found themselves inside an exquisite house, the kind of shooting location that Zayn was lucky if he ever got. Regardless of how lovely the set was, there was an uneasy mood looming over them, one that was probably inevitable after everything that they'd gone through. It wasn't as if Niall was going out of his way to be particularly cold towards him; it was more of the fact that the blonde seemed unwilling to meet his eyes and was speaking to him like he was a stranger.

"I need a smoke," Zayn announced after they'd done several shots around the first floor. "Come with?" He tried to keep his voice steady, hoping that the tremble beneath his words wasn't embarrassingly evident. Niall's shoulders lifted easily in a shrug, gesturing forward as if telling Zayn to lead the way ahead. A slight smile ghosted Zayn's lips as he made his way towards the spacious balcony, the blonde falling into step beside him.

It was nearing six p.m. now, cold wind settling beneath Zayn's skin and making him wish that he had thought to put on a jacket beforehand. He absently noted that they'd likely have to set up extra lights inside as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Knowing that Niall didn't smoke, he didn't bother offering the other boy a cigarette, simply lighting his own instead. The two stood there in relative silence for a few moments, Zayn attempting to build up the courage to just _talk_.

"Can I talk to you about something, Niall?" Zayn finally asked softly, basically finished with his cigarette at this point because of long he'd stalled. He stubbed it out with the toe of his boot, gaze focusing on the beautiful view in front of them, the lush greenery and bursts of florals accented in the house's backyard. "You can do whatever you want, Zayn." Niall replied, his tone a little bit sarcastic.

Zayn couldn't blame him for it though, considering the fact that he certainly didn't deserve any better. He didn’t let the blonde's tone deter him however, taking a deep breath in before continuing to speak. "I've never been the best with talking, like, just bear with me." Zayn chanced a glance over at the other boy, whose features had softened, his head bobbing minutely in a nod.

Zayn averted his gaze back out over the balcony, almost itching for another smoke to get rid of the nervousness that had his foot tapping restlessly against the ground. "I think that a lot of people misjudge me when they first meet me, like, I'm just another pretty face in London, worth a casual fuck and not much else." A self-depreciating chuckle left his lips, eyes flickering to the ground as he scuffed it lightly with his foot.

"I sort of assumed that was how you saw me as well, that first shoot we did together, when you talked to me. Usually it doesn't bother me all that much, I'm honestly used to it by now, but then the way that you looked at me, it felt… different somehow? Like, maybe you saw me as something more? And then you started popping up in my life, and I wasn't sure how to deal with it— I wasn't sure how to deal with the fact that I just wanted to kiss you all the fucking time." Zayn's voice dropped to a whisper. Niall was watching him, expression not giving anything away, lower lip tucked in between his teeth.

"And I know that probably sounds ridiculous, since it was pretty evident that you were into me, but I couldn't decide what would be worse, like, if you just wanted to sleep with me and then fuck off or if you were actually interested in pursuing something _more_. And I'm not— I haven't been able to commit to anything in the past two years of my life. I didn't even move out here to model, y'know? All I'd ever wanted to do as a child was sing, and it was like I had just given up on everything that I'd built my life around. I can't even face my fucking family because all I see is the disappointment in their eyes; I know it's obviously not intentional on their part, but I just feel as if I've let everyone in my life down. The point is, Niall, I'm a little fucked in the head, yeah?" The words were dismissive, and when he looked over at the blonde, met with furrowed brows, he knew that Niall could tell what was on his mind. Silence settled between them for a moment, the air thick and heavy with unspoken words.

"Gi texted me yesterday," Zayn said softly, pointedly avoiding Niall's gaze as he stared out into the sky in front of them. He could imagine how the blonde was looking at him though, shock lining his features. They'd already had a brief discussion about her a while ago, so Zayn no longer had to act like Niall wasn't aware of that part of his life. "What'd she say?"

"She said that she had gotten my number from one of our old mutual friends; I changed it after moving out here so I wasn't expecting her to contact me or anything like that. She told me all about Manuel — her fiancée — and about the wedding, her job at the hospital, her new life in Spain. She said that she couldn't deal with the thought of getting married without clearing her conscience about what had happened between us." He chuckled softly, considering how much of a _Gigi_ thing it was for her to feel the need to clear her conscience, a whole two years later. "She said that she couldn't tell if it was the pre-wedding jitters or what, but she was missing me and wanted to know how I was doing, what I was up to. She said that she'd run away with me if she had the chance."

Niall's face was blank, chewing on his thumbnail absently, a nervous tic that Zayn had come to notice. "How did ya' feel about that?" Niall questioned quietly, tone so uncertain that it made Zayn's heart ache in his chest. He turned so that he was facing the blonde now, a sad sort of smile meeting his lips. "I was left wondering why all I cared about at that moment was how I was going to make things right with you."

Niall's wide-eyed gaze was enough motivation for him to continue speaking, working through the underlying shakiness of his voice. "What I'm trying to say, Niall, is that I like you. I think I've been telling myself this whole time that I've stayed away to protect you, when really I was staying away to protect _myself_. God, I know that you're not _her_ , nowhere close to it, and you wouldn't leave me like that, but I find it difficult to shake the feeling that somehow I'm not worth sticking around for. I know that I've acted like a complete knob and you don't owe me another chance, not in the slightest. I just… I just want to make you half as happy as you've made me over the past couple of weeks." Zayn finished, his heart beating so fast that it felt as if it was about to leap out of his throat. The silence that followed felt like the longest silence he'd ever sat through.

"Of course I want to be with you, Zayn." Niall finally said, breaking into a bright smile, his eyes practically twinkling as he stepped forward to pull Zayn into him, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy. Zayn returned the hug, fingers tight against the fabric of the blonde's t-shirt. It felt nice to be practically engulfed by him, finally feeling as if he was able to take a step back and allow someone else to take the reins for once, surrounded completely by the blonde's warmth.

"I thought I was going to lose you." Zayn mumbled against Niall's shoulder, tears welling in his eyes despite his best efforts not to cry. Outwardly displaying emotions like this wasn't something that he did often, but he knew that he'd eventually have to learn if he ever hoped to attempt to mend their relationship.

"Hey," Niall said softly, extricating himself from the embrace as he got a good look at Zayn, lifting a hand to gently wipe the tears away from his eyes. "Ya' wouldn't have been able to get rid of me anyways, especially not when I'm convinced that Lou, Liam and Haz are involved in some weird polyamory thing."

Zayn huffed out a teary laugh at that, fond smile helplessly gracing his lips. Niall was looking at him as if he was made of galaxies, smile genuine and eyes bright, shining with something that Zayn was almost convinced was magic. "I really, really like you, Niall." He whispered, fingers reaching up to gingerly caress the blonde's cheek now that he was allowed to.

"I really, really like you too, Zayn." The blonde replied dopily, bringing his own hand up to Zayn's so that he could intertwine their fingers together, melding together effortlessly as if they were puzzle pieces.

Zayn couldn't say with utter certainty that things were going to work out for them. He couldn't see into the future, and he didn't necessarily believe that things were set in the stars for everybody, especially when the universe was constantly evolving. But now, looking up at Niall; Niall, who had sunshine interwoven in every fiber of his being, who had managed to brighten up Zayn's otherwise dreary life — things finally felt like they were going to be _okay_ , and he didn't mind having to figure out the rest of the way, as long as he had Niall by his side.


End file.
